


Murphy's Law

by Eternally_Exhausted



Series: AUs & Crossovers [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Blood, Crossover, Death, Gen, just some silly self indulgence, rated for: swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-01-16 16:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 57
Words: 66,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18524860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternally_Exhausted/pseuds/Eternally_Exhausted
Summary: As if Skyrim wasn't already hectic enough, with its inhabitants fighting both the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire. Now there's dragons, too, and Emmet finds himself unwittingly roped into the whole mess. What else could go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got bit by a bug and some people seemed to like the idea, so here it is. Just some silly self-indulgence C:

Lucy hissed as she came to, lifting bound hands to feel at the knot on her head. Her head throbbed as she gently probed at it; it was as big as she’d thought. She supposed sassing that Imperial soldier hadn’t been her brightest idea. But how had they even found where she and her team were moving through?

It had to have been the Thalmor, she thought angrily as the cart passed Ambassador Sirius and General Callaghan (a strange name for an Imperial; she sometimes caught herself wondering about it). The smug look on the First Emissary’s face told her everything she needed to know. Damned elf. The General just scowled, as usual. Funny; she thought he’d finally be happy, having caught most of the elite scouts and warriors, and the rebellion’s second in command. She glanced over. Mayhem sat at her side, looking as miserable as Lucy herself.

The fighting had been going on for roughly two years. The Thalmor had outlawed the worship of Temu at the signing of the White-Gold Concordat; apparently it offended their delicate sensibilities that a _human_ could ascend to godhood. But it hadn’t stopped people like her from continuing their worship, and the open defiance had apparently prompted the Thalmor to act. And it got _ugly_.

The General was too damned good at his job. The war, such as it was, was already nearing its end. The Black Knight was still free, somewhere, but they had lost so many in such a short time. Half of their command had been killed or captured (and then later executed) in the past year alone. Lucy had found herself climbing the ranks at an alarming rate.

Not a fact she could take pride in anymore, when her first real chance to make some decisions for the rebellion ended in them all getting captured. She buried her face in her hands, ignoring the way Mayhem leaned against her in attempt to comfort her. “It’s not your fault,” the other woman spoke softly. “It was just bad luck.”

“They were _waiting_ for us, May,” she muttered back. “I’d hardly call that bad luck. They _planned_ that.”

“You were careful. If they found out, someone _else_ leaked it.”

“Doesn’t matter now anyway, you know we’re _all_ headed for the chopping block…”

“Shut it back there!” the Imperial guard driving the cart growled at them. Lucy snarled back, kicking the back of his seat. Another minute, and all the carts were pulling into a circle in the center of the town the Legion was currently camped at. They had an audience of the villagers, gathered at every vantage point they could find to watch the proceedings. Her gaze caught that of a plain-looking young man. Unlike the curiosity or vehemence of the other villagers, he simply looked… sad. She glanced away.

As she had predicted, there was the chopping block, along with the headsman, and a priestess ready to give them their last rites. They were prodded off the carts one at a time, their names read off a list to ensure they had everyone. The General strode over to oversee their sentencing, and Lucy flinched; he was _huge_ up close. Easily as big as the Black Knight.

“It’s a shame your leader escaped,” he growled, “but I’ll settle for his second in command and his rising star officer. This rebellion is _over_ ; your Black Knight will be caught soon enough.” He paused in front of one of the scouts. “ _You first._ ” Lucy bit her lip as Denny squared his shoulders, glaring defiantly back at the General before making his way to the chopping block. He’d been one of their best scouts. She had to look away as the axe came down, and nearly retched at the sound of his head falling into the basket. “You next!” the General barked, pointing at her. Shaking, she took a step forward, then paused in confusion as a strange sound rang over the town. It sounded like a cross between a scream and a roar, and from a distance.

“What was that?” one of the Imperial soldiers asked.

“It was nothing. I said next prisoner!”

Swallowing down bile, Lucy stepped toward Denny’s headless body, dropping herself down onto the block and staring up at the headsman. She would not close her eyes, not for this.

And she was glad she hadn’t as another strange roar, louder this time, was accompanied by something huge and black flying over the town.

“What _is_ that?!”

It landed on the tower, all scales and horns and claws and teeth, and raised its head to the sky, _shouting_ the clouds into turmoil. The skies started to churn, turning a strange red color, and the creature turned its attention back onto the people below. Lucy had half a breath to get out of the way, shoving herself away from the chopping block in time to watch the headsman go flying into the house on the opposite side of the square. She was still grazed by it though, and stumbled, the blast dazing her.

All around, villagers were trying to flee the flames falling from the sky as the Imperial soldiers readied their bows. The General himself had grabbed a discarded shield and flung it like a discus, striking the beast in the head hard enough to throw off its aim. It leapt off the tower and circled the town, swooping down to snatch up hapless victims. One of the villagers- the young man with the sad eyes- was right in the monster’s path, and against her better judgment, Lucy sprinted toward him, tackling him out of the way. “Come on!” she barked, yanking him back to his feet, and pulled him along to the safety of the tower. Mayhem and several other rebels were already there.

“Is that a dragon?!” the young man yelped. “I thought they didn’t exist!”

“I guess we all thought wrong then,” Mayhem said, peeking outside. General Callaghan seemed to be putting up an impressive fight, keeping the beast’s attention on him so the archers could do their work unimpeded. “Is there any other way out of here?”

The young man fidgeted as all gazes were on him. “Uh, well… I heard some of the soldiers say there’s supposed to be tunnels under the fortress, once… Maybe through that door, I think it needs a key though-”

“Leave that to us,” Lucy said, approaching one of the barred doors. The young man watched in amazement as she did… _something_ that forced the door open. He hesitated as the rebels passed through, and she turned back, raising an eyebrow at him. “You coming or what?”

“Um…”

“Would you rather take your chances with the dragon?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head vehemently, jogging after them.

He _really_ hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for this. It wasn’t like the rebels gave him much choice.


	2. Chapter 2

They stumbled out of a cave he had never known existed near his village, and was almost immediately shoved to the ground. The young woman hissed at him to be silent when he yelped in protest, and the other rebels ducked under rocks and trees or back into the cave to avoid being seen as the dragon flew overhead, apparently deciding it had wreaked enough havoc. He really hoped he still had a village to return to. Once it was declared clear, he pushed himself back upright, brushing dirt and leaves off his clothing.

“Look, I appreciate you saving my life back there, but I really need to get back now-”

She gave him an unimpressed glare. “You really think the Legion’s going to just _let_ you go back? I’m pretty sure at least that Captain saw me dragging you into the tower.”

“But that’s my _home_ -”

“Let him go,” the tall woman in white armor said. “Perhaps the General will show mercy.”

“Not likely…” his rescuer scoffed, folding her arms. “But alright.” He was quick to push himself back to his feet and take off. It seemed by sheer luck that he even picked the right direction to run in.

It wasn’t long before he reached the gates of Helgen, and he slowed to a halt at the sight of desolation before him. There was very little left of his town; most of it had been destroyed by either the dragon’s breath or the fiery hailstorm. The survivors were still putting out fires. His own home hadn’t survived. “Oh no…”

He paused when he realized he could hear the General speaking with one of his captains. He hadn’t been noticed yet, and so listened in.

“…like one of the villagers was actually a rebel as well, he aided the captives in escaping. If he returns, I want you to arrest him. He is to be executed with the rest of the rebels, once we’ve caught them again.”

“Yes, sir.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, and carefully crept back outside the gates. Everyone inside was too busy to notice him as he sat on the ground, feeling overwhelmed. Not only was his home _gone_ , but he’d just been declared a wanted criminal.

“Bad news?” He gasped, jerking his head back up to see the young woman who had saved him. “I tried to tell you,” she said more gently, reading his look.

“My house is gone…”

“…I’m sorry.” She held a hand out to him. “I’m Lucy.”

“Um… I’m Emmet,” he introduced himself, reaching to shake her hand. She grabbed hold of him, pulling him back to his feet.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before they see us.”

“Where did your friends go?”

“We split up, it’ll be safer to head back to base that way. Come on.”

“No.”

She turned back to him, surprised by his adamancy. “What?”

“Somebody has to tell the Jarl about the dragon. Helgen had a whole troop of Imperial soldiers stationed there, and look what happened to it anyway! What do you think is going to happen to some place like Riverwood? They’re completely undefended, they wouldn’t stand a chance…”

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “Alright. I guess we’re making a detour to Whiterun, then.”

~* *~

Emmet, it turned out, was _very chatty_. Obnoxiously so, almost, and he had a thousand questions. He mostly asked about her, where she was from, who her parents were, why she fought for the rebellion, and when she didn’t respond, answered them himself. She learned he’d been born in Helgen, had lived there his entire life up until that point. He didn’t seem a very imaginative or adventurous sort, unlike herself. It sounded like he’d never once set foot outside the walls in his whole life. He’d studied stonemasonry, and a bit of carpentry, under his father’s guidance, and took over the ‘family business’ when his father passed away. He didn’t seem to have any aspirations for anything greater. All in all, he sounded like a very boring person.

As Emmet nattered away, Lucy went over all her options. It _was_ kind of her fault the young man was in this mess now. She should have just left him after ensuring he wasn’t about to become dragon food, she’d had no reason to drag him into the fortress with her, and now she was paying the price for her actions. But as much as she didn’t want to see an innocent person come to harm, she also knew he was going to be a _huge_ liability. He had no combat training, no capacity for stealth, no apparent survival skills _at all_.

Lucy perked up as a thought occurred to her; perhaps this detour wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe if she explained the situation to the Jarl, he could grant Emmet sanctuary. Whiterun was still an undeclared Hold, but the Jarl did seem to lean more toward the side of the Imperials. If they could persuade _him_ of Emmet’s innocence, maybe he in turn could persuade the General, and Emmet could return home unhindered.

She liked that plan. She’d go with that. If it didn’t work, well, she’d figure something else out then.


	3. Chapter 3

General Callaghan watched as the dragon flew away, making sure it was actually _gone_ before making a mental tally of survivors. There was little left of the town; maybe one or two buildings survived the onslaught partially intact, and only a handful of people hurried about, trying to put out the fires. Those few were a mix of the villagers and his own soldiers, one captain, one Thalmor guard, and the First Emissary. Ambassador Sirius approached him, brushing specks of soot off his robes. The Thalmor didn’t like for their government officials to get involved with battles, but Sirius refused to show such weakness. It simply wasn’t in him to run and hide, and let the soldiers fight for him. “Remarkable timing, wouldn’t you say?”

The General made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “Honestly, I don’t find that so farfetched a conclusion. That was _too_ well timed to be coincidence.”

“Glad we agree. We’ll have to triple our efforts to find the remaining Blades; if anyone would know anything about the return of the dragons, it’s them.”

General Callaghan nodded, then turned his attention to another matter. “Captain! A moment.”

“Yes, sir!” She hurried over.

“I want you to keep an eye out. It looks like one of the villagers was actually a rebel as well, he aided the captives in escaping. If he returns, I want you to arrest him. He is to be executed with the rest of the rebels, once we’ve caught them again.”

“Yes, General.”

“I need to return to Solitude, get the word out to our camps about the escaped rebels, _and_ the dragon. Ambassador, if you are ready?”

“Yes, yes,” the First Emissary said, halfway distracted as he turned plans over in his mind. He found his horse (which had miraculously survived in the chaos) and mounted, he and his sole remaining guard already heading down the road without waiting for the General.

~* *~

The guard at the gate didn’t seem too keen on letting them in, but allowed them to pass once Lucy told him they had information on the dragon. Jarl Balgruuf’s housecarl was none too pleased to have them interrupt their meeting either, demanding what business they had in Dragonsreach.

“We survived the dragon attack on Helgen,” Lucy snapped back. ”We thought you might appreciate having news from actual eye witnesses.”

“Well that explains why the guards let you in. Come on then, the Jarl will want to speak to you personally.” The Jarl had already turned his attention to them, overhearing Lucy’s forceful comment to the housecarl.

“You survived Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?”

“It was kind of hard to miss,” Emmet said. “It was _huge_ and black and all spikes and horns and sharp teeth-”

“And last we saw, it was headed this way,” Lucy interrupted.

“When I went back to see, there was so little left, so few survivors… Not only did we have our own guards, but a troop of Imperial soldiers, and a few Thalmor guards as well, and if Helgen was burned to the ground after all that… A small village like Riverwood wouldn’t stand a chance,” Emmet continued.

“My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once,” the housecarl insisted.

“The Jarl of Falkreath would view that as a provocation!” the steward protested. “He’ll assume we’re preparing to join the Black Knight’s side and attack him! We should not-”

“Enough!” Balgruuf interrupted. “I’ll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once.” Emmet let out the breath he’d been holding. Lucy also relaxed, and glanced over at Emmet, who beamed at her in response. His faith in his Jarl wasn’t unfounded, after all.

“Yes, my Jarl,” Irileth said, and saluted him before leaving. The steward also excused himself, no doubt feeling embarrassed. Jarl Balgruuf gestured for them to come closer.

“Well done,” he praised. “You sought me out, on your own initiative. You’ve done Whiterun a service, and I won’t forget it.”

“My lord,” Lucy spoke up, and he focused his attention on her. “If you find it fair, I have a favor to ask.”

“Speak,” he said, gesturing for her to continue.

“I am one of the rebels, destined for the chopping block when we arrived in Helgen,” she started, and he raised an eyebrow at her admission. “The dragon caused so much chaos I was able to escape. But it also nearly killed Emmet. I saved his life, and took him through the tunnels with the others that escaped, but now General Callaghan has assumed he’s one of us. My lord, he is completely innocent of any wrongdoing- I didn’t give him a choice in the matter. Would it be possible for him to stay here, since he can’t return to Helgen? Would you be at all able to convince the General of his innocence?” Emmet gave her a surprised look. The Jarl considered her request.

“I may grant your request, if you could do one more thing for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps.”

Lucy frowned. “And that is?”

“Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... rumors of dragons.”

Well, if it pertained to _dragons_ … Intrigued, she followed the Jarl, Emmet tagging along behind her. Now that she was no longer under threat of having her head chopped off, or being roasted to a crisp, her childhood fascinations were starting to resurface.

“Farengar, I think I’ve found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill them in on the details.”

“You’re researching the dragons?” Lucy blurted out, startling both the mage and her tag-along. Emmet started giggling.

“Well, yes, but I’ve hit a dead end,” Farengar told her. “There is an ancient stone tablet- the Dragonstone, said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. The tablet itself exists for certain, but its rumored location…” Lucy folded her arms, giving him a look. “It’s said to be in Bleak Falls Barrow, in the mountains to the west of Riverwood. The ruin is ancient, and dangerous, and my skills are not such that I could make the trek myself.”

“So you want us to fetch it for you.”

“If you would be so kind.”

“I don’t know, Lucy,” Emmet hedged. “Haven’t we survived enough danger already?”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll do the hard part, you just have to keep quiet and stay out of the way. Besides,” she grinned, “it’ll be fun!”


	4. Chapter 4

The Barrow was pretty straightforward. They’d dealt with some bandits camping in the entrance (or rather, Lucy had- Emmet turned away from the sight of all the blood), and a thief who had apparently stolen a golden claw ornament from a trader in Riverwood, according to his journal. Emmet had nearly thrown up at the mess the giant spider made as Lucy fought it; apparently it had decided he made a tastier target than her, so he’d provided a distraction while she killed it, but then the thing decided to die _on top of him_. Lucy felt bad, but couldn’t seem to stop giggling.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I did try to get its attention, I guess it just decided you looked like you’d taste better than me.”

Emmet only whined in response.

“Here,” she said, finding a few rolls of linen wraps and handing them over for him to wipe down with. “These should help.”

“When we get out of here, I’m taking enough baths to last me a _month_.” Lucy just laughed again.

“Well come on, I don’t think we have too much further to go now. We’re in pretty far, there shouldn’t be any more bandits or nasty critters hiding in here.”

They hadn’t made it much further before Lucy was proven wrong. Emmet hadn’t been able to do more than gasp as he saw one of the shriveled corpses tucked into a niche start to move, and it was all the warning Lucy had. She whipped her blades back out, blocking its blow as it swung down at Emmet and grunting under the force. She had it down within seconds, and could only stare in shock. “That can’t be possible…”

“I thought it was just travelers’ tales!” Emmet yelped. “They’re _dead_ , they shouldn’t be wandering around!”

“…Maybe it has something to do with the return of the dragons,” Lucy mused. “I’ve delved into enough tombs to know the dead should not be up and about.” She sighed. “Alright, change of plans. I’ll lead, you stay behind me and _keep quiet_. Seems we’re not through the danger after all.” She sheathed her blades and pulled out her bow, crouching down to sneak the rest of the way through the Barrow. Emmet did his best to mimic her, but clearly was not used to using stealth. He aroused the ire of a few more draugr before finally catching onto what _not_ to do, and Lucy was able to start shooting them down before they were noticed.

They eventually came to a point where they could go no further. “Well this was a bust,” Lucy huffed, glaring at the door before them. At least, she assumed it was a door. It had three rings, each bearing a small carving of an animal, plus a central circle with three holes in it. Prodding at any of them with a lockpick did nothing. Emmet studied it, poking at one of the rings. It slid slightly to the side.

“Oh!” he gasped, and moved it further. It rotated easily under his touch, revealing another animal carving. Lucy perked up, watching him. “Maybe that’s how we’re supposed to open it?”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “But we don’t know what the right combination is.” She frowned, turning her attention to the center circle again. Something about it rang a bell… She reached over and brushed some dust away, to see a slight impression of what looked rather like- “The claw!” she gasped, and dropped her pack to dig through it, pulling out the golden claw she’d pilfered from the thief’s body. She held it up to the holes; they aligned perfectly with its claws.

Emmet grinned, almost bouncing. “Maybe it has the right combination on it somewhere?” Nodding, Lucy inspected it more closely, and sure enough, found three carvings that corresponded with the carvings on the rings.

“Try this- bear, moth, owl,” she said, and Emmet moved the rings into that order. Lucy got up and placed the claws into the holes, turning it and pressing slightly. Something inside it clicked, and it started to drop, allowing them passage. “I can’t believe that actually worked!” she cheered. “Come on, we’re close, I can feel it!”

“Hey, wait up!” Emmet yelped as she sprinted ahead into the cavern. He slowed, his jaw dropping at the sight of the wall at the far end. “Whoa…”

“Hurry up!” Lucy yelled back. “I see a chest up there, the Dragonstone’s probably in that!” Emmet ran after her, panting as he reached her side. She was already on her knees, shoving back the lid on the chest and sifting through it. She frowned. “It’s not here…” She turned to Emmet upon hearing him muttering under his breath, running his fingers over the strange carvings in the wall. “Emmet?” she ventured. “Are you- you can _read_ that?”

He startled, glancing back over at her. “…Yeah,” he said, sounding as baffled as she was. “It’s… creepy. ‘Here lies the guardian; Keeper of the Dragonstone, and a force of unending rage and darkness’. The word ‘force’ is glowing.”

“…Emmet, nothing’s glowing.”

“But it’s so bright! You really can’t see it?”

“It’s just a bunch of scratchings in the rock-”

She was interrupted by a _thud_ sounding from behind them. They slowly turned toward the ancient tomb on the edge of the dais. “…I think I know where the Dragonstone is,” Lucy said. Emmet went pale.

“Oh I really hope it’s not where I think you’re thinking-”

Another _thud_ , this one accompanied by a loud _crack!_

“I think it is,” Lucy gasped, and shoved Emmet off the dais. “Hide!”

A final _thud_ , and the lid flew off the tomb, flying several feet away and shattering as it hit the ground. Emmet whimpered as he ducked into the shallow stream, crouching down and flinching every time he heard the clash of steel against steel. He nearly leapt back out of his hiding place when Lucy swore, just barely managing to stop himself in time. Finally there was the sickening thump of a body hitting the ground. He held his breath, listening. After a moment, Lucy called, “all clear.” She sounded hurt. He hurried back up to where she sat, gingerly peeling off a gauntlet.

“Oh no! Can I help?”

“Red canister in my pack,” she hissed as she peeled the leather away from the gash. “Grab a roll of linen too.” Emmet nodded and dropped down to retrieve the requested items.

“Here, let me,” he told her when she reached for them. “It’ll be easier for me to do it.” She stared him down for a moment before nodding, biting her lip almost hard enough to bleed as he popped the top off the canister and scooped some of the paste out. He was surprisingly gentle as he spread it over the cut, barely causing her any further pain. She relaxed as he wrapped the linen around her arm. “There.”

“Thank you…” He smiled brightly at her. “Well, we have the Dragonstone, now. I saw it in the tomb, could you grab it?”

“Certainly.” He pushed himself back to his feet, picking up the large tablet from where it rested.

“Let’s see if we can’t find a shortcut out of here,” Lucy suggested, getting back up. “I’m starting to feel claustrophobic.”

“I agree,” Emmet said, and followed her as she climbed the stairs near the dais. It was only a short path to get back outside. Lucy looked up at the darkening sky.

“We were in there longer than I thought,” she mused. “We’ll have to stop in Riverwood tonight.”

“We should give that trader back his claw while we’re there.” Lucy nodded, carefully making her way back down to the ground.

“In the morning,” she told him. “He’ll probably be closed by the time we get there.”

As predicted, the sun had long since set by the time they stumbled into the inn. Lucy dropped a bag of coins on the bar before shuffling off to one of the rooms, not waiting to be told which were open. Emmet looked helplessly at the innkeeper. “…You wouldn’t happen to have a bath, would you?”


	5. Chapter 5

Lucy fought back a giggle as Emmet dropped himself down on the opposite side of the table. He must have gone to bed with his hair still wet, the way it was sticking up in every direction. He looked utterly exhausted, though, which had her concerned. “Rough night?”

He shrank in on himself. “So much happened yesterday, my mind wouldn’t quiet enough for me to sleep…”

Lucy could commiserate. She reached across the table, gently squeezing his forearm. “You get used to it,” she told him. “Do you want to stay a while longer, try to get some more sleep?”

“No,” he sighed. “I’m already up, might as well keep going.”

“Alright, then. We’ll head out as soon as you’re ready.”

“How is your arm?”

She smiled at his concern. “Doing much better, thank you. That paste we put on it yesterday is a concentrated healing potion, a good friend of mine figured out how to make it. It’s more effective for healing deep cuts like that than just drinking a regular potion.” She held her arm out, unwrapping the linen bandages from it; all that was left was a fresh red scar where the cut had been. Emmet’s eyes went wide.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “You must get hurt a lot…”

Lucy shrugged. “It happens, especially when you’re fighting a war. I’m pretty well used to it by now.”

“You shouldn’t have to be. You’re too nice to keep having to get hurt like that,” he blurted out, then turned red at the look she gave him.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” she said after a moment. “If you’re done eating, we should get moving. I can’t imagine the Jarl or that Farengar fellow will be happy to be kept waiting for too much longer.”

“Right.” Emmet practically inhaled the rest of his breakfast. Lucy shook her head. She took a moment to shoulder her pack, and then they were off. They stopped at the trader's to return the claw- a well-loved family heirloom, apparently, and the shopkeeper rewarded them with a hefty sack of gold coin. Lucy wordlessly handed it to Emmet. “You’ll need it to get yourself a house,” was all she told him when he gave her a surprised look.

They were almost to Whiterun when Lucy paused, noticing a column of smoke not far in the distance. It looked like the nearby watchtower was on fire. “Oh no,” Emmet gasped when he spotted it. “What do you think happened? Bandits couldn’t cause that much damage, could they?”

“Not likely,” Lucy murmured in response. They both froze at the familiar roar that echoed across the skies. “But a dragon sure can! Come on, we have to help!”

“But-!” Emmet tried to protest, but Lucy had already taken off down the path at a full sprint. With a whine he followed as quickly as he could manage, catching up to her where she’d paused at an outcropping of rocks.

“Wait here,” she instructed. “I see Irileth and some of the city guards, they seem to have it pretty well distracted so you should be fine, but try to stay out of sight anyway.” Emmet nodded, hugging the Dragonstone close as Lucy drew her bow and ran off to join the fight. He peeked around the outcropping; it was hard to see much, with all the smoke, but from what he _could_ see, it looked like a nasty fight. The dragon grabbed one of the guards, shaking its head like a dog with a chew toy before flinging the dead guard away. It seemed to be grounded, not even attempting to take off, so Lucy put her bow away and drew her blades.

“No!” Emmet shouted as she ran straight for it, leaping up onto its snout as it snapped at her and driving a sword into one of its eyes. It shrieked in pain and rage, shaking its head in attempt to dislodge the blade. Lucy grabbed onto one of its horns, holding on for dear life to keep from being thrown. She readied her other sword, plunging it into the dragon’s spine the moment she had the opportunity. It collapsed and convulsed for a moment before falling utterly still. The surviving guards came in close, staring at it in awe.

It was dead.

Emmet warily crept closer, unable to take his eyes off its still form. “You actually killed it,” he murmured in awe. Lucy dropped down at his side, panting harshly.

“I think that was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.”

“I think that’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever _seen_ anyone do, but it was _awesome!_ ” He scooted closer, poking at its scaly hide. Several of the guards shouted and they all leapt back as it suddenly burst into white flame, the fire rising up and then rushing toward Emmet.

“ _Look out!_ ” Lucy screamed, but he appeared unharmed. He simply stood there, blinking in shock.

“What in the world,” Irileth muttered.

“I can’t believe it,” one of the guards murmured in awe. “You’re _Dragonborn_.”

Lucy looked up sharply at that. “ _What?_ ”

“What?” Emmet echoed. “What’s Dragonborn?”

“In the very oldest tales, back when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. That’s what you did, isn’t it? Absorbed the dragon’s power?”

“I…” Emmet chewed on his lip, looking back at the skeleton that was all that was left of the dragon. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Try Shouting, that would prove it for sure.”

As the guard said ‘Shout’, it was as if something clicked in Emmet’s mind. The glowing word from the wall- it was like he had an altogether different understanding of it now. He took a deep breath, and yelled, “ _Fus!_ ” The guards standing in front of him nearly toppled over. Emmet gasped, grabbing one of them and helping him steady himself, apologizing profusely.

“By the Divines, lad, don’t be sorry!” the guard laughed. “That was _amazing_.” As the guards began to converse amongst themselves, Lucy got back to her feet and reached for Emmet’s wrist, squeezing gently. He turned his attention toward her; she had a strange look on her face.

“Come on,” she said quietly. “We still have to get the Dragonstone to Farengar.”

“Oh.” Emmet nodded. He’d almost forgotten he was even holding it. As they made their way back to the city, the sky seemed to thunder, and several voices spoke in unison.

_“Dovahkiin!”_

“What was _that?!_ ” Emmet gasped, staring wide-eyed up at the sky.

“I don’t know,” Lucy admitted. “It… sounded almost like a summons."

"What's 'Dovahkiin'?"

Lucy gave him an odd look. "So you can _read_ the dragon language, but you can't understand it when it's spoken? Interesting." Emmet pouted at her. "It means 'Dragonborn'."

Emmet's eyes went wide. "Were they- were they calling for _me?_ ”

“You're the Dragonborn, aren't you?" she teased. "But that’s not a summons I would answer until I knew _who_ was summoning me.”

“Maybe Jarl Balgruuf will know?”

“It can’t hurt to ask.” They hurried on to Dragonsreach.


	6. Chapter 6

“Good, you’re finally here! The Jarl’s been waiting for you!” was the first thing they were greeted with when they entered the doors. Irileth wasn’t far behind them, and strode forward to give her report.

“So what happened to the watchtower? Was the dragon there?”

“The watchtower was destroyed, my lord, but we have discovered that we _are_ able to kill dragons.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Jarl Balgruuf said, sounding relieved. “But there must be more to it than that.”

“There is.” She turned to Emmet and Lucy. “Something happened out there- the men I brought with me started speaking of a _Dragonborn_. They seem to believe this young man is one.” Emmet shuffled nervously.

“And how did they come to believe this?”

“I guess I absorbed some sort of power from it,” Emmet admitted. “Though I don’t know how I did.”

“So it’s true,” Balgruuf mused. “The Greybeards really _were_ summoning you.”

“Greybeards?” Emmet asked.

“Masters of the Way of the Voice,” the Jarl explained. “They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World.”

“But what would they want with _me?_ ”

“If you really are Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift. You’d better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There’s no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It’s a tremendous honor.”

“I… I suppose…” He glanced over at Lucy, not willing to part ways with her just yet. She looked thoughtful.

“Emmet… If you don’t mind waiting a bit, I can accompany you to Ivarstead. It’s not too far out of my way, but you’ll have to climb the Seven Thousand Steps yourself.”

“But-”

“They summoned _you_ , not me. Besides, I’ve got some business of my own to take care of.” He sulked.

“Okay…” He followed her to Farengar’s work room. The wizard looked very eager to get his hands on the Dragonstone, and he set it on the desk without complaint. The thing was _heavy_. Farengar and Lucy leaned over it, painstakingly making a copy of it on a small map of Skyrim. Emmet sighed and poked around the room, not really paying either of them any attention.

“And look at this! There’s text on the back! I’m not familiar with this script, though.”

“There was a wall with that same script on it in the Barrow,” Lucy said. “Emmet was able to read it; probably because of his Dragon Blood.” Emmet glanced back over at the sound of his name. “Would you mind telling us what it says?” He wandered back over, looking at the writing on the stone.

“Umm… ‘Here lie our fallen lords, until power of Alduin revives’,” he read out loud.

“Alduin…” Lucy murmured. “That name sounds familiar for some reason, but for the life of me I can’t think of why.” She looked up at Farengar. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention; I’m sure this will be immensely helpful in stopping the dragons. You mind if I take this copy?”

“Certainly,” the wizard agreed, “and thank _you_ for retrieving it for me. Good luck to you, my friends.”

As they left the Jarl’s palace, Emmet was unusually silent. Lucy glanced at him, somewhat concerned. “You alright?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his daze. “Oh yeah, I’m fine!”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “So you’re totally ready to learn how to be a great warrior and start killing dragons, despite the fact that you don’t like fighting.”

“…You’re sure they wouldn’t listen if I tried talking to them?”

Lucy huffed a laugh. “I’d say it’s about as likely as the General suddenly declaring you innocent and deciding to rebuild your house for you.” Emmet slumped. “Maybe even less so, actually. Dragons only ever sought to enslave mortalkind, or wipe us out entirely. They have no reason to listen to anything they can eat in a single bite.” Emmet made a face at that. She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “But you don’t have to do this alone. I’ll meet back up with you in Ivarstead, when you’re through with whatever the Greybeards have to teach you, and I’m done taking care of _my_ business. I’ll take you to meet some friends of mine.”


	7. Chapter 7

It was a fairly uneventful three-day trip to Ivarstead (which would have taken Lucy only two days, but Emmet wasn’t used to keeping up such a grueling pace so she’d had to slow down for him). They’d bid each other farewell at the bottom of the Seven Thousand Steps, and Emmet started his solo trek with no small amount of nervousness. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the Greybeards; the only thing that kept him from getting too worked up over it was the fact that Lucy didn’t seem the least bit worried. She’d heard about how secluded the Greybeards were from the rest of the world, and honestly thought a few days of calm would do Emmet good, after everything that had happened. The poor guy hadn’t been able to catch a break.

With him taken care of, she made her own way to where the rest of the rebel army was to meet up again. The Thalmor apparently didn’t think them bold enough to make their headquarters right in the middle of a city- Windhelm, to be exact, in the rather expansive home of a wealthy healer’s son. Bruce had offered his house and his finances for the cause, already fighting the Dominion from the shadows. His information network covered all of Skyrim, keeping him as up to date on the Thalmors’ movements as could be managed. He’d fancied himself some sort of vigilante when they’d first met, and there was no arguing he was one of the best fighters in the rebellion. He’d taught Lucy a few new tricks, after all.

She pulled her hood up as she approached the city; Windhelm was a fitting name for it, constantly battered by bitter cold gales as it was. The snow never seemed to stop, there. She made her way through the city unbothered, and shook herself off as she let herself into the manor. Alfred, Bruce’s housecarl, greeted her at the door.

“Welcome home, Miss Lucy,” he said, and she grinned at him.

“Thanks, Alfred. It’s good to _be_ home. How many of the others made it?”

“I believe most who were reported captured have returned. Lady Mayhem already informed me of the deaths of our few missing members.” Lucy nodded, sobering at the reminder. They would be sorely missed. “You are the last to return. Have you news for us?”

“Do I ever,” she answered. “You’re not going to believe what happened to me!”

“Then it is just as well that the Black Knight has also made his return.”

Lucy perked up at that. “He’s here?”

“I shall make the rounds so you only have to tell your story once.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” She made her way over to the silver closet, popping open the false back and making her way into their hidden headquarters. Bruce and Alfred had spent years carving it out and perfecting it when a chance accident had revealed a cavern behind the original wall, turning it into the perfect place to hide should the Legion or the Thalmor come calling. It was also every bit as comfortably furnished as the house above it, truly making it feel like a home.

“Lucy!” Mayhem called out, and ran over to greet her. “I was starting to fear the worst!” Lucy smiled, accepting her tall friend’s hug.

“I’m alright, just had quite the adventure is all. I’ll tell you all about it once Alfred’s done rounding everyone up. How’s the Queen?”

“Mourning our lost brothers and sisters,” Mayhem said softly. “She always takes it so hard. She’s been ready to start mourning you too, even though I told her you made it out of Helgen.”

“I should probably go see her before I do anything else,” Lucy sighed. “I keep telling her I can look after myself.”

“So could Denny, and Astrid, and Justinus, and Faiza…” Mayhem pointed out, and Lucy flinched.

“Alright, I get the point…”

“She just worries, is all. And we’ve lost enough people already. _Please_ don’t add to our fallen.”

“I don’t intend to.” She made her way to the Queen’s quarters and knocked gently.

“Come in,” came the unusually quiet response. Mayhem hadn’t been kidding when she said the Queen was taking it hard. Lucy let herself in.

“I’m back,” she said, voice equally soft. The Queen brightened up a bit upon seeing her, and wiped at her eyes before rushing over to grab her into a crushing hug.

“Lucy! Oh, I was so worried-”

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you, Your Majesty. But I’ve got quite a story to tell. Alfred’s getting everyone else together, so meet us in the Hall when you’re ready?”

“No time like the present,” the Queen said, taking the lead. Lucy smiled a bit and followed her out. She looked around at all the faces waiting eagerly to hear her tale, and sure enough, even the Black Knight was there, leaning in his customary spot with his arms folded across his chest. She’d thought it intimidating when she’d first met him, but had quickly come to learn he was simply making himself comfortable. The armor was a lot scarier than the person inside, at least off the battlefield. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“I don’t know if the news has made it this far yet, but if you have managed to hear the rumors- yes, a Dragonborn has been found.”


	8. Chapter 8

Lucy grinned as the Hall erupted into a cacophony of people shouting and chairs scraping across the floor. Even the Black Knight straightened up at the news, arms falling to his sides in surprise.

“So that chant we heard… that was really the Greybeards summoning the Dragonborn?”

“It was,” Lucy confirmed. “I saw him off at the bottom of the Seven Thousand Steps.” She looked over as the Black Knight rapped against the wall to get her attention.

 _‘Will you be bringing him here?’_ he signed, and she nodded.

“I promised I’d meet up with him again in Ivarstead, once the Greybeards have taught him whatever they have to teach him.”

“So what’s the Dragonborn like?” the Queen asked.

“He’s… a complete dope, to be honest,” Lucy laughed. “But he’s kind, and sweet. And the first Nord I’ve ever met that _doesn’t_ like to fight.”

“Some Dragonborn,” Bruce scoffed.

 _‘Don’t be disrespectful,’_ the Black Knight scolded. _‘It’s not our place to question the will of the Divines.’_

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce grumbled.

“Well _I_ can’t wait to meet him,” the Queen said. “He might be just what we need to turn the tide of this war.”

_‘I agree. We’re getting nowhere with all this fighting.’_

“We _tried_ diplomacy before,” Bruce reminded them. “No one was willing to take us seriously until we started to get violent.”

“We didn’t have a Dragonborn then, though,” Mayhem said. “His words will hold far more weight than any of ours.”

“We can hope,” Lucy sighed. “His heart’s certainly in the right place for it, but he’s going to need a _lot_ of training if anyone’s going to take him seriously as a diplomat.”

“And how are you sure he even _will_ help us?” Bruce continued. “How do we know he won’t report to the Legion, or worse, the _Thalmor_ , the moment he has a chance? We’ve suffered enough losses as it is lately, a hit like that would _end_ us for sure.”

“Well, he seems to have taken a liking to me,” Lucy said. “And a dope he might be, but he seems reasonable enough. I’m sure he’ll be willing to hear us out, and we can persuade him from there.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not willing to take that risk. I don’t want him here.”

Lucy bristled, ready to argue- didn’t he trust her judgment?- but then slumped. No, he was right _not_ to, not after what happened.

_‘Might I make a suggestion?’_

“And what would that be?”

_‘Bring him to the Braidwood Inn in Kynesgrove. We’ll meet him there, and evaluate him ourselves. If he doesn’t measure up, we can force him to part ways with Lucy. If he does, then we’ll bring him back here.’_

Bruce fell silent, mulling it over for a few minutes. “Sounds reasonable enough,” he finally agreed.

“There was something else I was hoping to look into while I’m here,” Lucy spoke again, taking out the map and laying it out on the table. “The dragons. They seem to be multiplying with frightening speed. I’m not sure how that’s possible-”

“I am,” said a black-robed mage sitting further down the table. Penn wasn’t a Master Builder, like the majority of their numbers, but a half-blood, which made her just as much of an outcast as the rest of them. She was one of Bruce’s top operatives. “I saw your dragon from Helgen at one of the ancient dragon burial mounds. I couldn’t tell you what it did, I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it, but I _can_ tell you I saw a dragon’s skeleton _climb out of that hole_ and become flesh and blood again. It’s somehow reviving the others.”

“Well that answers that question,” Lucy sighed. “But who revived the first dragon?”

“How much do you want to bet it was the Thalmor?” Bruce asked.

The mage rolled her eyes. “Oh please, what makes you think they’re even _capable_ of reviving dragons?”

 _‘Didn’t stop them from claiming to bring the moons back,’_ the Knight joked.

“ _Dawn Magicks_ , my foot. In all my years of researching the various schools of magic, I’ve never even come across so much as a _hint_ of it actually existing. They’re just a bunch of opportunistic bullies talking out of their asses.” The Queen started laughing at her vehemence, and even Lucy had to grin at the normally stoic mage’s outburst.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that way before,” Watevra giggled.

“Still, it can’t hurt to look into it,” Lucy mused. “Even if they aren’t to blame, they might have a lead.”

“And Ambassador Sirius is having one of his little parties soon,” Bruce added. “Perfect opportunity to do some snooping.”

“ _If_ I can get in,” Lucy reminded him.

“Leave that to me,” Penn said. “I’ll get you on the guest list.”

 _‘Thank you for bringing all of this to our attention,’_ the Knight said. _‘Perhaps we can use this situation to our advantage- if people see us fighting the dragons…’_

“They may be more inclined to trust us, and side with us,” Lucy finished, nodding.

“I’ll get the rest of my team to do some snooping, see if there’s any pattern to when and where the dragons are being revived,” Bruce offered. “It would be an even bigger help if we could be there when it happens, instead of waiting for a distress call.”

“We’ll have to be careful of that,” Penn pointed out. “It happens too often, and people may become suspicious of our intentions. They may believe we’re at fault.”

“And we’ll need to make sure the Dragonborn is present to keep those dragons from being revived _again_ ,” Lucy added. “They’re not easy to put down, and I’d like to not have to face the same dragon twice.”

“Alright, we’ll work on that. Lucy, you go get the Dragonborn. Penn, you work on getting Lucy into that party. I’ll round up the rest of the scouts and see what we can find.”

Lucy waited as everyone dispersed again, morale higher than it had been for quite some time. She was glad for that, even if it meant they would be fighting _two_ wars now. She chewed her lip before approaching the Knight, who seemed to be waiting for her. “Sir, I- I would like to resign my rank as Captain. I don’t think I’m cut out for it after all.” He tilted his head at that. “The ambush- it was my fault everyone was caught-” She cut herself off as he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

_‘I didn’t promote you on a whim. I did it because I had faith in you. I still do. You are one of our best, Lucy- not only a brilliant warrior, but capable of thinking on your feet as well. What happened was not your fault. Mayhem already made us aware of the possibility of a leak. I believe that is why Bruce is hesitant to have your friend come straight here.’_

Lucy blushed at the praise, looking away. “I still don’t think I’m ready for that responsibility, though. Not after…”

_‘I understand. I will accept your resignation- on the condition that you accept another assignment.’_

“What’s that?”

_‘Bruce may be hesitant, but I trust your judgment of the Dragonborn. Your appraisal of him not being a fighter worries me. You’ve already built a rapport with him; I want you to keep an eye on him, and make sure he survives to accomplish whatever task the Divines have set before him.’_

Lucy sighed. She should have expected that. But even if she hadn’t been assigned to basically babysit the Dragonborn, she likely would have done it regardless. He was hopeless when it came to ensuring his own survival, if the incident with the bandits was anything to go by. She’d meant it when she called him a dope; never in her life had she ever seen a person walk up to someone so obviously hostile and try to introduce himself. “I accept, sir.”


	9. Chapter 9

In Solitude, far at the other end of Skyrim, the General and the Ambassador were having a similar conversation about the Dragonborn.

News had spread fast throughout the province, of a Dragonborn that had appeared apparently in response to the return of the dragons. Word in Whiterun had it that the dragons could be killed, but only the Dragonborn could ensure they would _stay_ dead.

“My sources tell me it’s a young Nord, who goes by the name of Emmet. A survivor of Helgen. The same young man you were so hasty to outlaw, perhaps?” Sirius needled. The General growled his annoyance. “This rather complicates things.”

“I’ll take some of my men and retrieve him myself.”

“Storming High Hrothgar? You’d bring _all_ of Skyrim down on your head, for that.”

“I’m not daft,” Callaghan snarled. “Just a few men. We’ll wait for him at the foot of the mountain, in Ivarstead, and speak with him there. Convince him to come with us. We can certainly equip him better than the rebels can- he’d have the whole of the Legion at his back. I doubt the rebels number even a hundred, anymore.”

“Would do to improve our image here, having him on our side,” Sirius agreed. “Actually, General, I’d like for you to bring an invitation to my party with you, when you retrieve him. I would _very_ much like the chance to get to know the young man.”

“As you like. Just be quick about it, we’ll have to leave before sundown if we’re to make it to Ivarstead by the time he comes back down.”

~* *~

Emmet slowed as he approached the bottom of the Steps, and instead of Lucy waiting there for him, he saw a handful of Imperial soldiers- and the General. Every inch of his body went cold.

He’d been found.

It was too late to flee of course, they’d already spotted him. And even if he’d had a moment to try, he hadn’t yet mastered stealth enough to actually get away. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he descended the last few steps, attempting a smile as he approached them. “Can I help you?”

“Emmet of Helgen?” the General rumbled, and he nodded.

“Yes…?”

“ _You’re_ the Dragonborn.” He almost sounded displeased by this fact. Emmet clasped his hands together, trying not to pass out from sheer terror.

“I’m sorry about what happened at Helgen, they didn’t really give me a choice-!” he blurted out, but the General waved him off.

“Never mind that. You’ve been pardoned.” Emmet blinked at that. Well, it wasn’t a declaration of innocence, but he supposed a pardon was the next best thing. “We need you to come with us, Dragonborn.”

“But I-” He cut himself off; even he knew he was about to reveal too much. “Okay. Um. Why?”

“We’re going to need your help in putting an end to these dragons.”

“You’re not… fighting the rebels anymore…?”

“The dragons are the more pressing threat right now.”

Emmet took a moment to think it over. Scary as the General was, obviously he was doing what he thought was best for everyone. Lucy seemed concerned with the dragons first and foremost as well. And they were both right; the dragons _were_ the biggest threat right now. The opposing factions might both do their best to keep civilian casualties to a minimum, but from what Lucy had told him, the dragons had no concept of “innocent” or “guilty”. And already he had seen they killed indiscriminately, regardless of species or walks of life, for mere _sport_.

And maybe, if he played his cards right, he could bring their war to an end as well. He nodded. “Okay. I’ll come.”

~* *~

Lucy paused in her trek back to the small town of Ivarstead, when she spotted an Imperial soldier making his way down the street. She didn’t think she was seen. Still… It didn’t bode well. _Of course_ the Legion also got word of the Dragonborn; they must have had the same thought as the rebels. She pulled up her hood and carefully made her way around the outskirts of the town.

Sure enough, there the General stood, speaking with Emmet. The young man looked a little pale- not that she could blame him, being that close to the General was a terrifying prospect. Especially when you already knew he didn’t like you. She scowled. “Bastards,” she muttered, watching the General motion for his escort to follow. Emmet likely thought he had no choice in the matter, to be going with them so easily.

As the General strode ahead, one of the other soldiers handed Emmet a slip of paper. He seemed more at ease, being out of the General’s immediate vicinity, eyes going wide as he read whatever was on the paper. His mood did a complete turnabout; whatever was on that paper obviously had him excited. If only she could catch him alone for a moment…!

No use dwelling on if onlys. With a huff, she hurried away from the town to return to headquarters. The Black Knight was _not_ going to be happy about this turn of events.

~* *~

Emmet couldn’t stop staring at the paper in his hands. An invitation! To an actual party! Usually only the rich or nobility ever got invited to a _party_ , especially one at the Embassy. He’d heard stories. A rather stuffy affair, but it was a chance to rub elbows with some of the most influential people in Skyrim. And now _he_ was going! Only one problem.

“I, um. Don’t exactly have anything, you know, decent to wear to a party?” he told the soldier that had given him the invite. “Even before my house burned down, I didn’t have anything that nice…”

“It’s all been arranged,” the soldier explained. “The Legate has a room waiting for you at the Winking Skeever, and will help you in selecting a proper outfit once you arrive. Wouldn’t do to get you something that doesn’t fit, after all.”

“Legate?”

“One of the finest officers in the Legion.” The soldier leaned close, whispering. “Don’t know how she stands to work with the General, the two of them are like night and day.”

Emmet relaxed. “So… She’s really nice?”

“Nice, but also no nonsense. She wouldn’t be a Legate otherwise.”

“What’s her name? Is she okay with being addressed by her name?”

“It’s Barbara, but you should still address her with her title. She’s not the sort of person you would _want_ to disrespect.”

“But I thought you said she was nice?”

The soldier laughed. “You’ll see what I mean when you meet her.”


	10. Chapter 10

If Emmet had thought Whiterun was impressive, Solitude absolutely blew him away. It was easily three times the size of Whiterun, filled with stone buildings he was sure must have stood for hundreds of years. Made sense, really, considering it was where the High King would rule from, if they had one. Their last High King had passed away of some illness a few years ago, leaving no heirs, and shortly after, the war had broken out. The Jarls would not elect a new High King while they were so politically divided.

Strange timing, that.

He was distracted from dwelling on it any further when an Imperial officer approached him. She was lovely, with her tanned skin and kind green eyes and long dark auburn curls, but from the way his escort straightened up and saluted her, he guessed her to be very important. “Legate!” the soldier greeted her. Emmet straightened up as well, realizing who this was.

“You must be the Dragonborn,” she said, and smiled at him. Emmet immediately felt at ease around her. “Welcome to Solitude. What do you think?”

“Ah, well, I just got here…” Emmet said. “But _wow!_ This place feels so old, but it’s beautiful. And _huge_.” He looked around. “All these big stone buildings, though… Kinda makes it feel like everything’s weighing down on you.”

“You get used to it after a while,” the Legate assured him. “Come, let’s get you ready for the Ambassador’s party.”

~* *~

Lucy had been fortunate to run into Lloyd before she was even halfway back to Windhelm. He must have been sent ahead to check out a burial mound further south of Ivarstead. He was young, younger than her- barely into adulthood really, he had just turned eighteen a few weeks before, and was eager for his first real assignment. “Lloyd,” she called, getting his attention.

“Captain!” he gasped, pausing to salute.

“Not anymore,” she corrected. “I need you to go back and tell the Black Knight there’s been a change of plans.” When he looked ready to protest having to play courier, she added, “the Imperials have the Dragonborn.” His eyes went wide at that.

“Oh, no…”

“Exactly. I’m heading on to Solitude; Penn better have me on that guest list by the time I get there. I’ll do what I can to get him out of there and bring him to Kynesgrove, but at this point I can’t make any guarantees.”

“Damn… Alright, I’ll go. Good luck, Lucy.”

“Thanks, I’m going to need it…”

She was relieved to find a message waiting for her in the city, sent by hawk. Penn had come through once again. An invitation was enclosed, along with instructions to meet a contact at the inn, who would smuggle her equipment into the Embassy. There was also a very expensive looking necklace- some family heirloom of Bruce’s, apparently- that she could trade for a dress. She did just that, and used some of the leftover gold to rent herself a room at the inn. It didn’t take her long to find the wood elf Penn had instructed her to meet with.

“ _You’re_ who she picked?” Malborn griped, gaze sweeping over Lucy and apparently finding something about her lacking. “Hope you know how to _clean up_.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’s not your job to worry about that,” she sniped back. “Can you get my stuff in, or not?”

“Only what you absolutely can’t live without,” Malborn huffed. “I bring in too much stuff, and there’ll be _questions_.”

“Good. Give me a bit to change, I’ll be back with my gear.”

As promised, Malborn was still sitting at the same table when she came back down. His eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “…Okay, I take back what I said about cleaning up. Clearly Penn knows what she’s doing.”

“Clearly,” Lucy agreed, smirking. She handed over her armor, her bow, and her daggers. “I’ll see you at the party. _Don’t_ lose any of that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Malborn grabbed the pack and left. Lucy moved to follow, and stopped in her tracks when she spotted something- or rather, some _one_ \- out of the corner of her eye.

“Emmet!” she gasped. His head jerked up at the sound of his name, his eyes widening at the sight of her. She made her way over to his table.

“You look very pretty,” he told, smiling widely. She blushed faintly. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing you are, apparently,” she answered, taking in his outfit. “The Legion’s treating you well, I see.”

He winced. “Please don’t be mad…”

“I’m not,” she promised. “I saw the General talking to you, back in Ivarstead. I figured he didn’t really give you a choice.”

“The same way you didn’t?” he teased, and she huffed at him. “I mean I probably could have? But it would’ve involved revealing way too much, and I couldn’t do that to you.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with affection. “I’m glad I ran into you here. I was hoping to catch you before the party.” She glanced around, making sure there was no one listening in, and sat with him. “Can I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I need to do some snooping around the Embassy. We think the Thalmor might be behind the dragons- or at least have a lead on who is. But I’m going to need a distraction so I can slip out unnoticed. Do you think you could do that for me?”

“Uh.” Emmet scratched at his head. “I mean, I can try? I’ve never been so great at getting anyone’s attention…”

“Well, just do your best then. If it doesn’t work out, I’m sure I can think of something else.” She placed a hand on his arm. “And I’ll do what I can to get you away from the Legion, but it might take me a while. I’m sure they’ll be watching you like vultures.” Emmet shuddered. Lucy got back to her feet. “I should get going now.”

“You don’t want to go together?” She looked back at his plaintive tone.

“Honestly? I actually would. But it’ll be safer for _both_ of us if they don't associate us with each other.” She smiled at him. “I’ll see you at the party.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Alfred!” Lloyd shouted as he slammed the door open. The housecarl made his way out of the room he had been working in, quirking an eyebrow at the young man’s behavior. “The Black Knight hasn’t left again, has he?”

“I believe he is still here.”

“Good, I got a really important message from Lucy!”

“Do please close the door behind you, Lloyd, you’re letting the snow in.”

“Oh, sorry.” He closed it as requested before sprinting to their hidden headquarters, shouting for attention once again. He was pointed in the right direction, and soon found the Knight. “Sir!” The Black Knight turned his attention to Lloyd, gesturing for him to speak. “I know I was supposed to go check out that dragon mound, but I ran into Lucy on my way down there. She said the Imperials have the Dragonborn, and she’s heading on to Solitude.”

The Knight fell utterly still at that. Then, after a moment, _‘thank you for bringing this to me. We might have to alter arrangements, now. Return to your assignment. You’ll be reporting to Penn when you come back, instead.’_

“Yes, sir.” He gave a clumsy salute before bolting out again. The Knight sighed to himself, then left to look for Bruce and Mayhem. It didn’t take long to find either of them.

“Is something wrong?” Mayhem asked.

_‘I just received word from Lucy that the Imperials have the Dragonborn. She should still be able to handle her assignment at the Embassy, but she may be in over her head, trying to extract him from Solitude. I’ll need you two to come with me, and perhaps the Captain and Kitty as well.’_

“So you’re taking all of upper command with you,” Bruce remarked.

_‘Her Majesty, Penn, and Alfred will be able to handle anything that happens in our absence. Storming Solitude with all our forces would be suicide; it will be easier to get a small team of our best in and out. We can’t afford to lose the Dragonborn to the Legion.’_

“Not that we even _have_ the forces to storm the city in the first place.” Bruce grumbled and scrubbed at his face. “I guess this is as good a plan as we’re going to get. At least Kitty will provide a damn good distraction. And maybe even _he’ll_ deign to help out.”

_‘One can hope.’_

“I’ll go find them,” Mayhem offered.

_‘Thank you. We’ll fine-tune it along the way.’_

~* *~

Emmet walked into the Embassy, holding his breath. The guard at the door had barely spared him a second glance when he showed her his invitation, simply waving him in. As excited as he was to meet new people, he also worried he would say something stupid that would reveal how much of a commoner he was. Every other guest at the party was obviously from either a wealthy or noble family. He glanced up as the First Emissary approached him. He was tall, though not quite as tall as the other High Elves around the place. “You must be the Dragonborn,” he greeted.

“Yes! That’s me,” Emmet confirmed. “I’m Emmet!”

“I’m Sirius.”

Emmet tilted his head. “Um. So am I?”

The Ambassador rolled his eyes. “No, that’s my _name_. After the star?”

“Oh! Gotcha. Nice to meet you!” The elf quirked an eyebrow at Emmet’s outstretched hand. Emmet slowly withdrew it. “Uh. Okay. So… I’m… kind of new to these sorts of parties?”

“Obviously.”

Emmet glanced around, spotting Lucy at the far end of the room, talking to some lady. She didn’t look in his direction, but he was certain she was aware of his presence. Right; he had to figure out how to make a distraction. “So… What do people usually talk about, here?”

“Politics, business, how far back they can trace their blood lines, that sort of thing,” Sirius answered dismissively. The Dragonborn made a face.

“You don’t really seem like the kind of guy that enjoys making boring small talk. And I don’t know anything about any of that stuff anyway.” Emmet glanced around the room again, this time taking in its décor. There were a lot of very old-looking artifacts lining shelves or hanging on the walls. “This is a very nice collection. Can you tell me about it?” The Ambassador glanced back at him, startled by his surprisingly astute observation.

“You… are the first person who has ever asked me that.”

“Really?” Emmet tilted his head. “Don’t you ever talk to people about it? _I’d_ be proud of a collection like this, it must have taken a lot of time to find it all.” He bit back a laugh as the Ambassador preened at the compliment, and tried very hard to look like he wasn’t.

“I suppose I could tell you a little bit. It would take all day to cover the entire collection. Some of it was inherited, but most of it I did track down myself…” Emmet didn’t even have to pretend to be fascinated as the Ambassador rambled on; he did genuinely find it all interesting. And Sirius seemed _very_ smart; from the way he spoke, Emmet guessed he’d had to do all the hunting down and retrieving himself.

It was as he spoke of a relic dating back to the Three Banners War that something clicked in Emmet’s mind, and he gasped. “Oh!”

“What?” the Ambassador asked, looking put out at being interrupted.

“Sorry, it’s just- living in Helgen, we had a _lot_ of travelers pass through on their way into Skyrim, you know? One time there was a priestess passing through, and she taught me a song she said was about that war. I didn’t really understand what she was talking about at the time, I’ve never been good with history… It’s called Beauty of Dawn, have you heard of it?”

The Ambassador gave him an amused look. “I’m familiar with it, yes. Why?”

Emmet scratched at his head, embarrassed. “Uh well… Sometimes? I’d go to the inn if I was too tired to make my own supper, and- people would ask me to sing. We didn’t have a bard in town, but I guess they liked my voice well enough. And I just- I feel bad I haven’t really had anything to add to the conversation?”

Sirius studied Emmet for a long moment. He’d never met anyone so… _eager to please_ , before. He chuckled softly, and gestured toward the young man. “Very well then.” Emmet grinned brightly at him, and took a deep breath.

_“A serpent lights the ancient sky; a threat of tainted stars. Evil stirs and in its wake the souls of mortals sway. Sorrow reigns over fields of red. Spirits pace through the shadows cast by their graves…”_

Every head in the room turned toward the source of the sweet voice. Even the Ambassador’s jaw dropped in shock. Lucy was equally speechless as she stared, and was jolted out of her stunned state when Malborn quietly cleared his throat and tilted his head toward a door. She nodded, slipping away from the party while Emmet had everyone distracted.

She’d have to ask him to sing it for her again, sometime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R3i-sps1I24
> 
> A beautiful song.


	12. Chapter 12

“Who comes, Malborn? You know I don’t like strange smells in my kitchen,” a voice rasped, almost startling Lucy. She hadn’t noticed the Khajiit cook standing at the far side.

“A guest, feeling ill. Leave the poor wretch be,” Malborn shot back, nonchalant as could be.

“A guest? In the kitchens? You know this is against the rules…”

“Rules, is it, Tsavani? I didn’t realize that eating _moon sugar_ was permitted. Perhaps I should ask the Ambassador-”

“Tss! Get out of here. I saw nothing…” Malborn smirked and ushered Lucy into the larder.

“Your gear is in that chest. I’ll lock the door behind you. _Don’t_ screw this up.” Lucy rolled her eyes, reaching back to unlace her dress. She was sad she’d have to leave it behind, but she simply didn’t have any way to take it with her- she’d had to leave her pack behind in her room at the inn. Malborn looked away as she pulled it off, replacing it with her armor instead. He turned back to her as she finished strapping everything into place. “Hurry it up, I’ve got to get back before I’m missed.”

“Quit fussing, I’m going.” She stepped through the door at the other end of the larder and closed it, listening to it being locked from the other side. No way back now.

She could hear a pair of guards talking in the room just ahead, about a bunch of mages having just come in directly from the High Elves’ capitol of Alinor. Apparently in response to the Emissary’s concern about the dragons. She frowned to herself; maybe the Thalmor weren’t responsible for them after all, if they were worried too. She crept past the open door, keeping half an ear out while she had a look around. There was an abandoned set of Thalmor robes; much too big for her, but perhaps the Knight or Mayhem could fit in them, if they ever needed to do more snooping in the future. She bundled the entire set up in its belt, attaching it to her own before heading back to the room the guards were in. Every other direction she could go proved a dead end. They had apparently returned to their rounds, now no longer in sight. Just to be on the safe side, though, she readied her bow and a few arrows.

Lucy made her way out of the first building without being caught, but the Ambassador’s office was across a courtyard filled with guards and mages. She ducked back behind the wall before any of them spotted her, taking a moment to think. There was no means of creating a diversion here; she would have to fight. With a sigh she put an arrow to the string and drew it back, stepping back out just long enough to take aim and fire. The mage fell without a sound. She nocked another arrow, managing to take out the second mage before the guards caught on to where she was at and rushed toward her. She managed to take one of them out as well before having to put away her bow and draw her blades.

“Bow to your betters!” one of the guards sneered, and Lucy’s eyes flashed.

 _“You first,”_ she snarled back, blocking a swing. The guard sucked in a sharp breath as his buddy went down fast, one of Lucy’s blades unerringly finding the slim gap under his helmet. He fell soon after. She swiped her bangs out of her face. “So much for ‘elven supremacy’.”

With the courtyard now clear, she made her way into the next building. If the first building she’d been in was where the Thalmor attempted to ‘make nice’ with the other peoples of Skyrim, then the Solar was where they did the majority of their paperwork. And other, less savory tasks, if the number of guards keeping watch was anything to go by. There was another one standing just across the room from when she entered; thankfully, her back was turned, and she didn’t see Lucy. The rebel carefully crept her way behind a pillar, where she would be out of sight if the Thalmor guard happened to turn around. She froze when she heard voices, one of them too familiar for comfort.

Her blood boiled. _Gissur_.

Lucy moved behind a large potted plant, listening as they discussed payment for whatever information had been provided. She remained hidden when their conversation ended, and she watched as the man she had thought was a friend and trusted ally left the office, followed by the Third Emissary, Rulindil. Possibly the one Thalmor she hated even more than Sirius. He walked into another room, and after a moment she heard a door open and close. The guard had vanished- likely up the stairs she’d been standing in front of- so it was just Lucy and Gissur left in the foyer. Grinding her teeth, she crept up behind him, clapping a hand over his mouth and pressing the sharp side of a blade to his throat.

“So _you’re_ how the Thalmor found us,” she hissed into his ear. He gasped sharply and began to struggle, stilling when the blade began to press into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood. “We thought you died in the ambush. We _mourned_ you. Was the coin they paid you worth your betrayal? Was it worth the lives of our fallen brothers and sisters? Or were you a spy from the start?”

“Mmf!”

“I should kill you. You take their money, you’re one of them, for all I care.” He started to tremble in her hold. He knew perfectly well that she was more than capable of it. She heaved a sigh of disgust, releasing him and shoving him away. “You tell them you saw me here, I will know, and I will _hunt you down_. And I won’t be so forgiving a second time. Got it?” He nodded vigorously before scrambling for the door.

Once he was gone, Lucy made her way into the office where they’d been having their little chat, and riffled through the papers strewn about in the desk. Nothing of interest there, or in the drawers. She made her way to the next room. _Jackpot_.

There in one of the drawers was a number of dossiers on the rebellion's commanding officers. She chuckled quietly to herself, reading through the information the Thalmor had. A lot of it was surprisingly accurate, except for the Black Knight's- the way every word was slashed into the book, she could almost _feel_ the author's frustration. They had record of his actions taken against them since the start of the rebellion, but no personal information with which to track him down. She found an empty sack and dumped the collection of thin books into it, making her way through the door on the other side of the room. It was nothing that would help her, really, but it was also something she couldn’t afford to leave in Thalmor hands.

As she opened the door, she heard voices. Thalmor voices, cruel and calm, and the weak whimpers of a human victim. As much as every fiber of her being was screaming at her to rush in and interfere, she remained quiet and out of sight, listening in. They were interrogating the poor man, looking for…

She bit her lip, eyes wide. Could it be? She'd thought every member of the Blades had been killed long ago, but they seemed convinced that _Vitruvius himself_ was hiding in Riften. _Now_ she could act. She pulled out her bow, nocking an arrow and letting it fly. Rulindil fell over without a sound. The guard in the cell startled as he suddenly fell silent and slumped over, coming out to see an arrow sticking out of the back of his neck. “Who’s there?” he demanded, only to be felled by a second arrow. Lucy put her bow away and walked over to the cell to free the prisoner.

“I’ve already told you everything I know,” the Breton whimpered, flinching away from her shadow.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Lucy soothed, and he glanced up, eyes widening upon realizing this woman was no Thalmor. “Can you stand? Can you walk?”

“I… I’m not sure…”

“Here.” Lucy took a red flask from her belt, pulling out the cork and pressing it to his lips. “This will help. It’s a healing potion.” He drank it down readily enough, managing to move his legs after a minute. Lucy unlocked his bindings. “Is there another way out of here?”

“Trap door, over there,” he nodded in its direction. “It’s where they dump the bodies.”

“It’ll do. I’ll catch up to you, I’ve got something I need to check first.” She walked back to the table Rulindil had been sitting at, checking the papers on it. Sure enough, she found another dossier, this one on Vitruvius. She added it to her sack, then moved to join the captive.

There was a commotion from upstairs, and Lucy felt her heart sink to see a pair of Thalmor guards dragging Malborn along with them. “Oh, no…”

“We’ve got you cornered, spy! There’s no other way out!”

She snarled and shot an arrow up at them. It struck one of the guards in the arm, and he cried out. Malborn used the brief distraction to attack the one still holding him, only to be struck down by the guard's sword. “Cowards!” Lucy screamed. “If you’re so superior, you’ll come down here and face me rather than attacking an unarmed civilian!”

The insult seemed to work, as they both came charging down the stairs- only to be shot down. She stepped over the bodies, hurrying up the stairs to check on Malborn. She paused at the sight of the blood pooling under him, and kneeled down, gently reaching over to close his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she murmured softly. “And thank you.”

She sighed as she made her way back down and to the trap door, where the captive still waited. “I’m pretty good with locks, but this one's beyond me,” he admitted. Lucy nodded, going back to search the guards for a key. It didn’t take long to find it, and she came back, unlocking the trap door and making her way to freedom.


	13. Chapter 13

Lucy hurried away from the Embassy; the guards would be swarming the hills looking for her before too long. She made it as far as the farm before she had to stop, the tears blurring her vision too much to see. She dropped to the ground, thankful for the cover of darkness, and sobbed. She hadn’t expected to be thrown for such a loop.

She sat there on the ground until she cried herself out, feeling drained but at least like she could focus again. The crunch of gravel underfoot caught her attention and she tensed, drawing her blades in preparation. The footsteps stopped. Lucy could just barely count five heads in the dim starlight. One of them moved, and she heard the unmistakable sound of magic being cast- a Candlelight spell, shedding light on the party. She relaxed; they were all familiar, and very _welcome_ , faces. “Lucy!” Kitty cried, running up the path toward her, the light bobbing along beside her. “Are you okay??” Mayhem was close behind her, followed by Bruce, the Black Knight, and Iron-Tail. Lucy leaned into the embrace as her Khajiit friend hugged her.

“I ran into Gissur.” Her friends froze.

“That’s impossible,” Mayhem gasped. “He died in the ambush! I _saw_ him go down!”

“He faked his death,” Lucy hissed. “ _He’s_ the one who sold us out!” Kitty purred softly in attempt to comfort her as the tears started again.

“How did that confrontation end?” Bruce asked.

“I let him go,” Lucy growled, angrily wiping at her eyes. “Kind of wish I hadn’t. Worm doesn’t deserve to live…”

 _‘Retribution will find him,’_ the Knight assured her. _‘I’ve been told karma’s a bitch.’_ Lucy giggled softly at that. _‘Were you able to find anything?’_

She brightened up at that. “I was, actually. Turns out the Thalmor _aren’t_ behind the dragons- they’re just as desperate as we are to find the source and put an end to it.” She dragged the sack she’d brought with her into the middle of the circle they’d formed around her, dumping out the books. “I found their dossiers on us, and grabbed those, but the most important one is…” She took a moment to flip through them. “This one.” Bruce took it, reading it.

“… _Vitruvius?_ ”

Lucy grinned. “I know, I thought all the Blades had been killed, too. But it looks like their lorekeeper is still around, and they think he’s hiding in Skyrim. They’ve even narrowed their search down to Riften.”

“We best hurry and rescue the Dragonborn, then,” Iron-Tail muttered. “Ye know the Thalmor won’t wait to go fetch Vitruvius.”

“Is that what you all are doing here?”

 _‘I thought you might be able to use some assistance,’_ the Knight explained. _‘I knew it would not be feasible to take the Dragonborn with you- the plan hinged on luck a little too much as it was. The Legion will only tighten their hold on him now, and attempting to get him back out of Solitude is going to be more than any one of us could accomplish on our own.’_

“I did manage to grab something else that might help us with that.” Lucy held up the pilfered robes, smirking. “Thought perhaps you or May could pass as a Thalmor mage?”

The Knight’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. _‘I’m flattered, but I couldn’t possibly pass as Altmer. I’m afraid I don’t have so much as a drop of elf blood in me.’_

“I can, though,” Mayhem said, then pouted. “But I’d have to get rid of my blue…” she sulked, running her fingers through her hair.

“No worries, I can fix that!” Kitty chirped. “We’ll make you a blondie for the mission, then I’ll put your blue back in when we’re done!”

“Might work a bit better than just ‘cause as much chaos as possible, snatch the Dragonborn, and run’, like we’ve been thinking,” Bruce mused. “If we can get the Legion to trust May as a ‘Thalmor’, she could do the ‘snatching’ with far less suspicion than any of us.”

“Which would leave the rest of us to create a diversion,” Lucy added. “What would cause enough of a scene that the Legion would leave Emmet in May’s care?”

“Dragon attack be all I can think of,” Iron-Tail sighed. He quirked an eye ridge at Kitty. “Or perhaps ‘mad Khajiit mage’?” Kitty giggled.

“I _am_ a master of Destruction,” she joked, flicking her wrist and summoning a fireball to her palm. “Want me to make things go boom?”

_‘Or use me as bait.’_

Bruce snorted. “ _That_ would sure get their attention. Probably make them suspicious too. The Black Knight just shows up in the middle of Solitude, all by his lonesome? No way they wouldn’t think we’re up to something.”

“Nay, that might actually work,” Iron-Tail said. “We each show up in different parts of Solitude, split up their attention. Black Knight makes a tempting target, the rest of us set off a few explosions around the city- they’ll be spread thin trying to catch all of us and put out the fires. Mayhem sneaks in with little interference, gets the Dragonborn to come with her, and as soon as she gives the signal, we be off.”

Lucy shrugged. “Works for me. Maybe try it tomorrow night, use the cover of darkness to our advantage? At least the Legion will be less likely to figure out May isn’t _fully_ Altmer if all they have to see her by is firelight.”

_‘It’s a plan, then. Come; there’s a sheltered spot just a little further west of here where we can set up camp.’_

~* *~

Emmet was startled when a sudden commotion rose up; it hadn’t taken the guards very long to figure out a guest was missing, just a few minutes after he’d finished his song. “WHAT?!” Sirius exploded when it was brought to his attention. “You find her, _now!_ ” Emmet swallowed hard, trying not to look as nervous and queasy as he suddenly felt. He really wasn’t much of an actor- surely they’d figure out he’d purposely provided a distraction for her-

Two of the guards left, while the others asked the guests if they’d seen anyone leave within the last few minutes. No, of course not- they’d all been too busy staring at Emmet as he sang. He shrank back as a guard scowled down at him next. “You wouldn’t happen to have done that on _purpose_ , would you?”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaked out. “I really didn’t know I’d get _that_ much attention! I never have before…” He thanked his lucky stars that _that_ was what had decided to come out. It was the truth, after all.

“Likely _that_ came with the awakening of your dragon blood,” Sirius sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Who knows what other ways it could have affected your voice? Leave him be, Fainil, I’m quite positive he didn’t mean any harm.” He turned his attention to the guests. “Alright, party’s over. _Everyone out_. Fainil, Merilor, escort the Dragonborn back to the Winking Skeever. I’ve got damage control to do now.” Emmet hunched his shoulders as Fainil nudged him toward the door.

They walked in silence all the way to Emmet’s room at the inn. It had taken every ounce of self-control for him not to start babbling and give away that he _had_ , in fact, distracted everyone on purpose. The soldier standing at his door straightened as they approached. Job complete, Fainil immediately did an about-face and began stalking away again. Merilor rolled her eyes at her companion. “For what it’s worth, I very much enjoyed your song,” she told Emmet before following Fainil back to the Embassy. He perked up slightly at that, smiling, and bid his curious guard good night before entering his room.


	14. Chapter 14

Emmet found it slightly annoying he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without an escort, but at least his guard for the day was one he’d sort of made friends with on the trip to Solitude- the same one that had given Emmet his invitation to the party. After breakfast he decided to take a walk through the city and see the sights. “What’s that walled off part up there?” he asked. They hadn’t even made it out of the market yet.

“That’s Castle Dour,” the soldier, Leander, answered. “That’s where the Legion is based in Skyrim. You can usually find Legate Barbara there, but the General likes to actually be out on the field so it’s rare you’ll see him around.”

Emmet stared up at it thoughtfully. “…You think they’d mind if I asked them some questions?”

“Like what?”

“About the war, I guess. Why they’re fighting it. I never really… I didn’t care before. Whiterun’s stayed neutral through the whole thing so far, so I didn’t see much reason to worry about it. But I guess I just want to understand the motive. I mean I’ve never really understood why _anyone_ feels a need to resort to violence, I like to try to resolve things peacefully, you know?”

Leander gave him an odd look. “Well, I suppose that’ll be alright,” he finally allowed, and took Emmet up to the fortress. Emmet was somewhat surprised to discover that General Callaghan _was_ still around. He and Legate Barbara were standing around a table with a large map marked with little flags, most of them red, having a heated discussion.

“…Knight’s going to try to retrieve the Dragonborn,” the General growled. Emmet paused in the doorway, tilting his head and listening in. “We need to take measures to prevent that from happening. We can’t allow the rebels to get their hands on him again.”

“He’d be insane to try to storm Solitude. He doesn’t have the men,” the Legate argued.

“You know as well as I do how resourceful and cunning he is. He’ll find a way.”

“With no more than twenty men left? I don’t see how.” Leander cleared his throat, gaining their attention. Both officers glanced over at them, the General scowling at the interruption. Emmet forced a grin onto his face and waved.

“Something we can help you with, Dragonborn?”

“Uh. Just Emmet, please…”

The General raised an eyebrow at that. “Something we can help you with, _Just Emmet?_ ” Emmet stared in surprise, and Leander hid his snicker behind a cough. Barbara turned away to hide her smirk.

“I, um. Was actually curious about the war? I mean… why are you fighting? What is it that the rebels are doing that’s so bad?”

“This little uprising of theirs threatens the stability of the Empire. Things are already strenuous as it is, have been since the signing of the White-Gold Concordat. People have never been thrilled with the terms of the treaty, especially not the banning of Temu worship.”

“Who’s Temu?”

The General gave him a long look. “…I suppose you’re young enough you _wouldn’t_ know. I’m not a historian by any means, and much of what anyone knows about him now is pretty much just hearsay, but this is what I know of him. He was a man who lived many centuries ago, who was said to have brought the spark of creativity to humanity- he was the first Master Builder. His, and his descendants’, accomplishments are what have allowed the races of men to compete with the races of mer, here in Tamriel. And when he died, he supposedly ascended to godhood. Obviously, the elves take offense to the very idea of it. The only reason I put any stock in it is because Master Builders still exist- the rebels you met in Helgen. They never have much liked authority to begin with, but this treaty with the Aldmeri Dominion they find especially stifling.

“Still, their ‘protests’ were just grumblings, meeting in secret for fruitless plotting, until the Black Knight appeared a few years ago and turned their grumblings into action. Now Skyrim has fallen into civil war, as these Master Builders try to ‘win back their freedom’, and if they succeed, this attitude will spread to the rest of the Empire. Between the four of us, I can’t see this ‘peace’ with the Thalmor lasting another thirty years, and all this in-fighting amongst our own kind is only going to weaken us to the point we won’t be able to stand against them a second time if they decide to press the issue.”

Emmet looked uncomfortable at the thought. “Is there no chance to make _actual_ peace with them? Come to some sort of understanding, so we don’t have to fight anymore?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Legate told him, tone laced with regret. “The Thalmor are… fanatical, in their views. They truly believe Altmer to be superior to all others, and will not stop until every other race in Tamriel is subjugated. And it’s a difficult point to argue, as there is solid evidence that they _are_ the oldest civilization in Tamriel.”

“But I talked with Ambassador Sirius,” Emmet protested. “Had an actual conversation with him and everything. He seemed nice enough…”

The General snorted. “’Seemed’ being the key word there. He’s quite an actor- he’ll play you to his advantage like he does everyone else, and you’ll never even realize it. Probably the one person in the world who’s even more cunning and conniving than the Black Knight.” Emmet wilted.

“Oh…”

“It is sweet of you to want to try though, and if I thought it would actually work, I would support you all the way,” Legate Barbara told him. “If only there were more people in the world who would rather talk it out than just fight…”

“As it stands, Dragonborn, we do have business to attend to, so I must ask you to leave.”

“Yes, sir…” Emmet shuffled out, followed by his escort.

“You alright?” Leander asked.

“Oh… Yeah, sure, I’m alright. It’s just a lot to think about.”

“I take it those weren’t the answers you were looking for.”

“I _never_ think that there should be any reason to fight.”

“Most people don’t think like that.”

“I know,” Emmet sighed. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to start, though. I need a journal, and something to write with.”

Leander tilted his head as Emmet suddenly switched tracks. “Bits and Pieces should be open by now, Sayma will have just about anything you could want.”

“Great! Let’s go there then!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leander, I stg, if you become more than just an NPC....


	15. Chapter 15

They spent all day making preparations. Kitty and Iron-Tail had combined their pyrotechnic expertise to create some explosives, and then Kitty had helped Mayhem to change her hair to a more Thalmor-acceptable color. Lucy wasn’t sure how the Knight intended to get into the city- ebony armor was very rare, he wasn’t likely to slip by unnoticed. But he seemed to have a plan, so she decided not to ask.

The sun was setting as they approached the city. They split up at the outer gate, Mayhem confidently striding her way into the city as the other four made to climb the rocks around its high walls. The guards only strolled the streets inside; they would never know the rebels were there. Lucy got into position and waited for the Black Knight’s signal. She scowled, catching sight of the General making his way down the street, apparently heading for the Blue Palace. Much as she would have loved to shoot him down in that moment, she kept herself in check. Wouldn’t do to give herself away like that.

There was no telling how long it would take to receive the signal. She passed the time by trying to guess which of the passers-by might possibly be the Knight, though without much luck. No one she saw came close to his height. Except for the General, possibly, but there was no mistaking _that_ scowling face as being her friend’s. She shuddered, then quietly laughed at herself for even entertaining the notion. Divines, that was _all sorts_ of wrong.

A commotion near the gate caught her attention, and she carefully leaned out to try to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Her blood ran cold. It was a group of Thalmor, led by the First Emissary himself. He looked pretty pissed off- still searching for her, perhaps? If only she could hear what he was saying to the guards…!

And then she saw Emmet come out of the inn with his escort, and wondered where he was heading. She never would have guessed him the sort to be wandering about after nightfall. Maybe he was just feeling too cooped up and needed to stretch his legs? The way he paused to take a deep breath and reached up toward the sky confirmed that thought. She felt her heart melt a little at the bright smile on his face as he cupped his hands to catch a torchbug hovering about in the center of the market square. Another Imperial soldier made his way down from the Castle, at first heading toward the inn, but correcting his trajectory when he realized the Dragonborn was standing outside. The other soldier’s relief for the night, she realized, when he approached the pair and spoke to them, and Emmet waved goodnight to the first before he left them.

Two more figures came through the gate then, oddly dressed and wearing the creepiest masks Lucy had ever seen. They shoved past the Thalmor, raising indignant protests, but seemed to ignore them as they made a beeline for Emmet and his guard. Their stances were aggressive, and Lucy was glad Emmet’s guard seemed to pick up on that as well, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. One of them grabbed for Emmet and the guard reacted, drawing his sword and fending them off- until one threw a fireball at him. “HEY!” she heard the Ambassador shout, and the Thalmor joined the fight. Whoever the two masked figures were, though, they were _good_.

And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, a familiar roar rang over the city. And then the Black Knight’s signal went up.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Lucy hissed. “Worst timing ever!” But she set off her explosives anyway. Other explosions rang across the city from her friends’ locations, and as Imperial soldiers poured out of Castle Dour, the dragon swooped down to attack. Well, they got their chaos alright, and it was bad enough it was likely to attract _someone else’s_ attention. Lucy placed her remaining explosives and lit them, sprinting away from her hiding spot just before the soldiers arrived. They split up as predicted, scattering around the city to attend to the damage, some remaining behind to fight the dragon, some trying to fight the spooky strangers. Shouts went up from somewhere close-ish by- the Black Knight had been spotted.

It was easy enough to pick out which of the ‘robes’ was Mayhem, by sheer dint of her magic not being as skilled as the Thalmor mages’. She much preferred her crossbow. She was attempting to make her way toward Emmet, and Lucy was content to let her- at least that part of the mission was going well. Lucy stuck to the shadows as she made her way closer to the group of Thalmor, intent on taking them out- where did the Ambassador disappear to?

“Lucy!” Emmet suddenly called out, managing to spot her even in the chaos. She whirled around to face him- and came face to face with the First Emissary.

“You,” Sirius snarled, and Lucy gasped as she brought up a blade to block his attack. “ _You’re_ the little thief that went sneaking through my Embassy, and killed my guards!” Flames from the dragon’s fire breath shot past just behind him, and he didn’t even flinch, continuing to bear down on her. He was more skilled with a sword than she’d ever thought possible; she’d known he was an adept magic caster, but she never would have guessed him to be a melee fighter as well. Her breath caught in her throat as their gazes locked.

His eyes were gray.

_Elves didn’t have gray eyes._

Stunned by this revelation, she couldn’t bring herself to react in time when he pulled back and thrust his sword toward her.

Emmet, however, did.

“No!” he screamed. _“FUS RO DAH!”_

The Ambassador barely had time to register what just happened before the power of Emmet’s voice threw him away from her. She turned her stunned gaze toward the Dragonborn, barely able to believe he’d just attacked someone- even if it seemed to do no damage other than to throw the Ambassador about like a rag doll. He seemed just as surprised at himself. One of the masked figures grabbed him again, and this time there was no one to come to his aid- his guard was lying dead on the ground, and everyone else was too busy fighting the other masked figure or fending off the dragon to interfere. Emmet struggled as the stranger started dragging him away, but to no avail. They soon disappeared in the smoke and fire.

Lucy wanted to scream in rage at losing him _again_. Who were these people, and what did _they_ want with Emmet?! She ran over to Mayhem’s side. “Did you see where they took Emmet?”

“No,” Mayhem panted, already running out of energy. Even being an elf, casting took a lot out of her. “Who were those people?”

“I have no idea.” She passed her bow and quiver to Mayhem, trying to even the odds a little. They were surrounded by Thalmor, Imperial soldiers, and the dragon. Where were the others??

A loud whoop and an enraged snarl broke her train of thought, and she whirled around to see a strange man dressed in vibrant blue and yellow grab the dragon by its horns and yank its head around until it was pointed in their direction. Mayhem sucked in a sharp breath and tackled Lucy out of the way as it screamed a stream of fire at them, elves and Legionnaires alike being burned alive. Lucy shoved Mayhem off to gape at the stranger- she had a _bad feeling_ she knew who that was, and it was in their best interests to get the hell out of there. Bruce and Iron-Tail went sprinting past them. “Where’s the Dragonborn?!” the Argonian bellowed as Lucy shoved herself back to her feet and attempted to catch up.

“Somebody _else_ took him now! A pair of weirdos in leather robes and creepy masks! Where’s the Knight?!”

“Close!” Bruce answered. “Just keep running before that _lunatic_ catches up to us!”

~* *~

Sirius found himself flying through the air for a surprising distance, and hit the ground hard. He slowly, roughly slid to a halt just in front of a pair of ebony-clad feet. He was in agony from the harsh landing, but every fiber of his being was screaming at him to get up, get _away_ from the man he’d just fallen before. Even so, it was still a few seconds before he could make his limbs so much as twitch. The Black Knight simply stared down at him. The Ambassador could only guess at what he was thinking. He then drew his sword, pointing the tip at Sirius’ throat, ready to jab downward.

_So this is it. This is how I die. In an undignified heap at the Black Knight’s feet._

The Knight paused, then, head tilted, then put his sword away once more. He leaned down and grabbed Sirius, throwing him over one broad shoulder. The elf squawked indignantly, trying to squirm away, but he was still somewhat dazed by the Dragonborn’s shout and unable to make his limbs fully obey. The Knight took a few steps, then stopped. Sirius swore he heard a whispered curse, and wriggled to look back over the Knight’s shoulders.

And cursed as well, himself. There could be no mistaking the madman wrestling with the dragon. He yelped as the Knight shifted his grip and began to run as fast as he could with his burden, scrabbling to find something, _anything_ , to hold onto to ensure he wouldn’t fall and be left behind.

~* *~

The General stopped at the edge of the market square, taking in the scene before him. He’d been unable to reach the fighting in time- whoever that odd man riding the dragon was, had the thing in such a frenzy he couldn’t even get close, before finally yanking its head back and directing it into the sky. He watched as the beast had made it only a short distance away before bursting into flames and crashing back to the ground beyond the city walls. And now he was left with an absolute mess. Dead Thalmor, some of which he just barely recognized as part of the Ambassador’s personal entourage but with no sign of the Ambassador himself, dead soldiers, numerous scorch marks, and gouges in the streets and stone walls from dragon claws. No sign of the Dragonborn, either.

“Told you he’d find a way,” was all he said to the Legate when she joined him, without even a trace of his usual growl. She could only stare numbly. He turned to look at her, taking in the way she was holding her ribs. He could only guess she’d taken a wallop from the dragon’s tail during the fighting. “Did you see what happened?”

“The rebels were here, but they aren’t who took the Dragonborn. There were two others, dressed in robes and masked. I’ve never seen such a thing before. I saw them grab the Dragonborn, and- that was it. The dragon knocked me away after that.” Speaking sounded difficult for her, but she pushed through anyway. He nodded.

“Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary and get those ribs looked at.” She didn’t protest when he wrapped an arm around her, glad for the support, and slowly walked her to the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...well. that was a surprising turn of events. I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore XD


	16. Chapter 16

Alfred watched dispassionately as the six of them trudged into the mansion, minus the Dragonborn but plus one unconscious First Emissary. “…You drugged him?” he surmised.

“It were the only way to keep him from runnin’,” Iron-Tail sighed.

“Not to mention _shut up_ ,” Bruce added with a grumble. Lucy snickered.

“He got to give us his line about ‘elven supremacy’ all of one time before Bruce punched him. It was _great_.” She sobered up after that. “But we lost Emmet. Seems like there’s a third party after him, now. They took him.”

“Then I believe you will be very interested in what our guest has to say.”

“Guest?” Mayhem asked. “We have a guest? How-”

“Alfred. _Who is it_ ,” Bruce demanded, immediately on edge.

“Someone I couldn’t have kept out if I’d tried. And believe me, sir, _I tried_. I believe you’ll find him in the Knight’s office.”

The six glanced at each other, worried now. There were remarkably few people Alfred found himself incapable of turning away, and those few were all not to be trifled with. They dropped the Ambassador off in an empty bedroom along the way, locking the door from the outside and grabbing Ken, leaving him with instructions not to let him out.

“Are you _nuts_ you brought the _Thalmor Ambassador_ back here-?!”

“New intel, change of plans,” Mayhem told him. “Just trust us?”

“If you insist…”

The Knight froze in the doorway. Lucy peeked around him to see who it was, and felt her blood run cold. Damn it, they thought they’d managed to escape him in Solitude…

“Very rude of you guys not to invite _me_ to the party,” he pouted. “You went through a lot of trouble to stir up chaos I could’ve caused in a snap!” He lifted a hand as if to do just that, and grinned at the panicked chorus of “NO!” shouted at him. “You probably wouldn’t have lost your Dragonborn, either.”

They slowly started to relax as it sank in that he was there to help, for once, rather than be a pest. _‘What do you know, friend?’_

“That there’s another Dragonborn in these parts, and Hermaeus Mora is eager to have himself a matched set.”

Information that would have been hard won with a high price otherwise, Lucy knew. But if there was ever one person who could interfere with the Daedric Prince of Knowledge’s plans, it was the Daedric Prince of Madness. “Why are you helping us…?”

He grinned at them. “Because I’m bored, and things around here are getting _really_ interesting.” He vanished in a blink.

“I _hate_ when he does that!” Lucy huffed.

“At least he seemed coherent this time, rather than on one of his obsessive kicks,” Mayhem said.

“Ugh, yeah. I can only listen to him yammer on about Dwemer airships for so long before I want to strangle him.” Iron-Tail chuckled at that.

“Alright, on to our next order of business- how are we going to handle extracting both the Dragonborn _and_ Vitruvius?” Bruce asked.

_‘We’ll split up. Lucy, Mayhem, Bruce- I want you three to find out where they took the Dragonborn. Kitty, Captain, you two head to Riften and see if you can’t pick up Vitruvius’ trail.’_

“Aye,” Iron-Tail agreed. “Sounds reasonable.”

“What will you do?” Kitty asked.

_‘I’ll keep an eye on the dragons. There’s not much we can do about them right now, being so few in number and spread out, but perhaps I’ll share some of our intel with the Legion, let them take care of the dragons for a while. And maybe I’ll see if I can’t talk our new ‘friend’ around. Knowing what we know now…’_

“It’s likely their High Council would terminate him the moment he stopped being _useful_ to them,” Mayhem finished, sighing. “I never thought he… I can’t _imagine_ …” She looked back up to the Knight. “Good luck, sir. I hope you can get through to him.”

_‘So do I.’_

~* *~

Sirius woke feeling groggy and ill. Whatever they’d kept dosing him with to keep him out of it was really doing a number on him now. At least his eye didn’t feel so tender anymore. Damned Master Builders. He pushed himself up on shaky arms to inspect the pitcher sitting on the night table, and was relieved to find it full of water. He hesitated for a moment, then decided if the rebels wanted him dead, he’d _be_ dead already. Obviously they found him more valuable alive- they would likely try to get information out of him, eventually. Best to get his strength up again, then. He managed to pour himself a cup without spilling too much and sipped at it, making sure it would stay down. Feeling a bit better now, he took a moment to glance around his prison.

It was a bedroom, still filled with the personal effects of its previous owner. Decorations, mostly, but also some clothes hanging in the wardrobe, and a couple extra blankets folded at the foot of the bed. He found there was also a plate sitting on the night table, with biscuits and honey, and a small cup of broth. Something to help settle his stomach further, no doubt. It smelled good, at least. He started with the broth and wondered how long it would be before his captors deigned to speak with him again.

He glanced up when he heard the click of the lock, and the door cracked open to admit a Redguard woman with the most vibrant blue eyes he’d ever seen. “Feeling better?” she asked. He guessed she must be their healer. He didn’t answer, instead turning his attention back to his meager supper. It didn’t deter her, though, and she crossed the room to sit in the chair in the back corner. “So you’re half elf?”

He choked on his biscuit, and coughed for a minute before answering her. “How-”

“Lucy told us. She says elves don’t have gray eyes.”

So that was the reason for the odd look, if ‘Lucy’ was who he thought she was. He was certain that was how the Dragonborn had addressed her during the fight, anyway. He wondered if the Black Knight had noticed as well, and that was why his life had been spared.

“Yes, well. Last I checked, Redguards don’t have blue eyes, either.” She seemed unoffended at the jab, laughing instead.

“Goodness, someone’s in a mood. I’ll assume that means you _are_ feeling better. Don’t worry, honey, the people here won’t judge you for what you are. You’re not the only half-blood, after all.”

“…You?”

“Nah. You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure.” She stood once more, smoothing the wrinkles out of her skirt before walking toward the door. “It’s late, honey, you should try to get some _actual_ sleep. It’ll help shake off the effects of the knockout drug Kitty gave you.”

He watched her warily as she left his room, locking the door behind her once more. There was no way these rebels would be showing _him_ any kindness without some ulterior motive. They were just buttering him up, waiting for him to let his guard down. Well he was onto them now- there was no way their plan would work. Still, sleep was a sound suggestion. He downed another cup of water before turning down the bedside lamp and stretching back out on the mattress. It wasn’t as opulent as he was used to, but he supposed it was comfortable enough.

He was out cold within minutes.


	17. Chapter 17

Luck was with them when they started their search. People around the city were still talking about the masked duo that had passed through- Dunmer, judging by their accents. “If they came through here, they must have come from Solstheim rather than Morrowind,” Bruce mused. “I know a captain who sails to the island regularly.”

However, when they reached the docks, said captain, and his ship, were nowhere to be found. “They must have used him to head back,” Mayhem guessed. “What now?”

“Shame we don’t have Iron-Tail with us. We could just build our own ship otherwise,” Lucy sighed. “As it is, _I_ certainly don’t know the way.”

“We may not have to,” Bruce called over to them. They turned in his direction.

“What are you talking about?” He simply pointed.

Lucy tilted her head, puzzling out what it was he was pointing out. It took her a moment to realize that the strange, almost sickly green glow on the horizon wasn’t the usual colors that dazzled the night sky in the north. “What _is_ that?”

“No idea, but I know it’s _not_ anything good. Still up for building that ship?”

Lucy smirked. “You bet.”

~* *~

Kitty and Iron-Tail made for an odd pair, garnering many stares as they strolled down the streets of Riften. It was a well-known fact that Khajiit and Argonians had long been enemies, so to see two such beings on obviously good terms was a sight to behold.

Especially considering that Kitty was perched on one of Iron-Tail’s shoulders.

“How do you think we’ll know it’s him?” she wondered out loud, glancing around the market square. Most were legit vendors, though there was one guy hawking snake oil to the shopping crowd. There was also a beggar woman by one booth, holding her hands out to anyone who passed by, and another ragged-looking old man sitting near where they stood, plucking out a pleasant tune on his lyre. Shoppers were dropping coins into the tankard sitting on the edge of his mat; it looked to be nearly halfway full already.

“Mayhaps we should try the Ratways, like Penn suggested,” Iron-Tail mused. Kitty wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t know, that seems too obvious to me.”

“Looking for someone?” the old man asked. They glanced down at him, then at each other. Kitty shrugged.

“He’s as likely as anyone else to know.”

“Fair enough. We be lookin’ fer an old lorekeeper, goes by Vitruvius. Would ye know him?”

“What sort of lore does he keep?”

“Dragons.”

“That so?” He set his lyre aside. They watched as he grabbed his half-full tankard and shuffled his way across the square, giving every coin it contained to the begging woman.

“Aww,” Kitty cooed at the shocked look on her face. Iron-Tail only frowned. “What?”

“Why would a beggar not keep the coin he’s earned for the day?” Kitty tilted her head as she puzzled it out. The old man shuffled his way back to them and retrieved his lyre. He stared at them expectantly; they stared back, wondering what he was waiting for.

“Well? Are you going to lead the way or not?” he finally asked.

“What are ye on about, old man?”

“You came here looking for someone. You _found_ someone.”

“Wait, are _ye_ -”

“Oh, fizzles!” Kitty squeaked, and slid off Iron-Tail’s shoulder, pushing him toward the inn.

“Eh?”

“Inside, _now!_ ” she insisted, then added, “ _Thalmor!”_ She didn’t need to say anything more after that. He went without further protest, dragging the old beggar along. The old man looked startled at the manhandling, but at the mention of Thalmor, looked as eager to get out of sight as them. Kitty peeked out of the door, watching as a troop of Thalmor soldiers and mages made their way down to the Ratways. She pulled away from the door, turning to look at the old man. “…You’re really Vitruvius?” she asked.

“That’s me,” he said, smiling. “We better get moving before they realize I’m _not_ down there. I’ll answer your questions along the way.”

They made their way out of the city as everyone else on the streets was distracted by the Thalmor passing by, not paying them the least bit of attention. “How long have you been hiding in Riften?” Kitty asked.

“Oh, years.”

“And no one ever suspected ye?”

“ _You_ didn’t think I am who I say I am. I may have been the lorekeeper, but I was as much an active operative as any of the other Blades. I know how to lay low and divert attention.”

Iron-Tail tilted his head at that. “…Why would ye bring up the Blades?”

“Why else would you _and_ the Thalmor be looking for me? You want to know the cause behind the reappearance of the dragons, _now_ , after so many thousands of years. The Blades had the most knowledge on dragons. I can tell you this- it was foretold long ago, that one day Alduin would return to finish what he had started. He was never defeated; he simply… disappeared.”

“Why?” Kitty asked.

“No one can say for sure. There were only the three heroes who put a stopper on his tyranny who ever knew, and they took that secret with them to the grave.”

Iron-Tail heaved a sigh and raked his fingers through his crest. “Alright, old man, ye’ve got me convinced. Let’s get ye back to base, Penn will want to pick yer brain as soon as she can.”

~* *~

Emmet had sat quietly the entire voyage. He wasn’t sure he liked sailing all that much. When they disembarked in Raven Rock, the masked strangers dragged him away from the settlement, forcing him to walk at a brisk pace. No amount of protesting seemed to do any good. They didn’t stop until they reached a grand structure in the center of the island. There were people- other Nords, like him- muttering as if in a trance, working on either building or restoring the spires that circled the outside. “Where are we?” he asked, but didn’t receive an answer.

He really wanted to just sit down for a while, he was getting a bad stitch in his side.

They took him inside the structure. It reminded him quite a bit of Bleak Falls Barrow. Were they in another tomb? He hoped not, he’d had enough of draugr to last him a lifetime.

It turned out there were draugr there, but they didn’t bother Emmet so long as he stayed with his masked escorts. They wandered further in; how deep did it go? It felt like they’d been hiking through it for hours. As they continued, the statues in the place started to change, from the familiar Nord symbols and dragons, to something… Emmet had no idea _what_ they were, but something about them gave him the chills like nothing ever had before. He didn’t think his captors would provide any answers, either.

Finally they came into a grand hall, with more of the strange carvings lining the walls, and a ‘sculpture’ of sorts made of dragon wing bones, in the center. At the top of the incline was a new statue that made Emmet want to throw up. The being it depicted looked like little more than a blob of flesh with dozens of eyes covering its surface, tentacles and crab claws reaching out. He swallowed hard and skirted past it, unable to take his gaze off of it, and nearly stumbled when ones of his escorts gave him an impatient shove. There was a narrow tunnel hidden behind it that they walked through, and at the other end, a large round room with a pedestal in its center, a heavy tome bound in black resting atop it. Instincts that Emmet didn’t even know he had screamed at him that everything about that book was _wrong_. His skin crawled and itched when they shoved him closer to it.

“Read the book,” one of them snarled at him. Emmet hesitated, glancing from it to them, then back again. The stranger snarled at him, losing patience, and drew a dagger. “ _Now_.”

“Alright, alright…” He shakily reached for the book, turning the cover over. He hadn’t read more than a handful of words when what seemed like spectral chains shot out of it, wrapping around him and dragging him closer, _into_ the book.

When his vision returned, it was to see another figure in elaborate robes of deep blue and vivid green standing a few paces ahead of him. “The time comes soon when- _what?!_ ” The man whirled around, and Emmet just barely caught a glimpse of a mask similar to those of his kidnappers, though more refined in design and made of gold, before he was struck down by lightning bolts. He gasped for breath, finding it stolen from him. “Who are you to dare set foot here?” the man demanded, and Emmet shivered at the rugged voice that reverberated out from behind that mask. He stepped closer, then paused. “Ah. You’re Dragonborn. I can _feel_ it.” Emmet was still shaking from the shocks when gloved hands grabbed his arms, pulling him back to his feet. “Apologies, friend. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“F-friend?” Emmet managed to get out.

“We’re alike, you and I. I am the first Dragonborn, and you- you are the last.”

Emmet relaxed at that, the tremors finally leaving him, though his limbs still tingled. If they were both Dragonborn, then it stood to reason that they _should_ be friends! It would be less awkward, at any rate, not to be the only one anymore. “What is this place?” he asked, squinting in the dim light.

“Ah, where are my manners? Welcome to Apocrypha, Hermaeus Mora’s own plane of Oblivion. All the world’s knowledge is stored here.”

“And you sent those people after me?” The masked man nodded. “Why?”

“Because I was very eager to meet another Dragonborn. And I admit, I need help.”

“Help? With what?”

“I’ve been trapped here for a very long time. I miss Skyrim, but I can’t escape on my own. I need another Dragonborn to help me gain the strength to break free of this place.”

“That’s _awful!_ ” Emmet gasped. “How did you get stuck here?”

“I was young, and greedy. I wanted _power_. The dragons granted it to me, in exchange for my worship, but it wasn’t enough. And like a fool, I agreed to become a follower of Hermaeus Mora when he approached me. He gave me access to one of his Black Books, the only means of reaching Apocrypha. Anything I could ever want to know, right at my fingertips…! I used that knowledge against my dragon masters. They retaliated, of course, and we fought at my temple. I was forced to flee, and I came here. I waited until I thought the dragons had given up, but when I tried to leave… I discovered Mora had removed my only means of escape.”

“I’ll do it,” Emmet agreed, determined. “And… maybe you can help me, in turn?” The man tilted his head, listening. “Dragons are coming back, and I guess I’m supposed to stop them, but I’m really not…”

“A fighter?”

“Yeah…”

The man chuckled. “Alright, it’s a deal. What’s your name, friend?”

“I’m Emmet! Who’re you?”

“The name’s Rex.”


	18. Chapter 18

_‘So what’s your impression?’_ was the first thing the Knight asked her when she saw him again. Watevra sighed.

“I think you’ve got your work cut out for you, trying to win him over to our side. He’s very guarded.”

_‘But you don’t think it’s impossible.’_

“Not impossible, no.” She smirked. “Just very, very difficult. I sense no conflict in him- he may be half human, but all he’s known is the life of the Thalmor.”

_‘What do you think we should do with him?’_

Watevra thought for a while. “Don’t keep him locked up in that room. He already holds so much resentment for us- that’s exactly the sort of thing he _expects_ from us, I think. To behave like the Thalmor do, and show him exactly the same sort of ‘hospitality’ they would show their ‘guests’. But we’re better than that.”

_‘So let him get to know us, see why we fight?’_

She beamed at him. “ _Exactly_. I know it will be a while before anyone will warm up to him enough to make him feel welcome, but I imagine once we reach that point… it’ll be more than he’s ever experienced with the Thalmor. He’s half human- he’s _got_ to have your desire to belong, somewhere in there. Buried deep where I can’t feel it.”

_‘Sounds reasonable enough. But I’m not letting him go anywhere without an escort, we can’t have him poking around for sensitive information.’_

“Obviously. As much as I want to show him kindness… I know we still have to protect ourselves.”

_‘I’ll see if Jenny’s up for taking first watch.’_

~* *~

He awoke to the sound of a key in the lock, and the door opening.

“Good morning!” chirped a cheerful Breton lady. He quirked an eyebrow at her sunny yellow robes. “Did you sleep well?” He continued to stare at her wordlessly. “You better get moving if you want breakfast, Alfred doesn’t wait long.”

That finally got a reaction from him. “What?”

“Breakfast only comes to you if you’re sick or injured, otherwise you take yourself to breakfast. You’re neither, so up and at ‘em!”

“…Is your Black Knight aware you’re letting me out of my prison?”

“Well of course he knows, he asked me to be your escort for the day.”

That was surprising. “Not guard?”

“Not guard,” she confirmed. “Now come ooon, I don’t know about you, but I’m famished!”

“Too bad. I’m not hungry.”

“Nuh uh, not allowed. _Up!_ ” He yelped, finding himself suddenly lifted off the bed by some unseen force. Of _course_ she was a mage. She smirked, setting him down on his feet. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? _I_ would’ve jumped at the chance for freedom.”

“How is it freedom when you won’t allow me to _leave?_ ”

“At least you won’t be cooped up in this room with nothing to do all day.”

Well, he couldn’t argue that point. He would go stir-crazy. He sighed. “Alright, lead the way.” He followed her to the dining hall. All conversation cut off when they entered. There was a moment of awkward silence, then a hand shot up, waving to get their attention. His gaze followed it down to the face of a white-robed man that could be his escort’s brother, they looked so alike.

“Come sit with us!” She smiled and made her way over, Sirius in tow. He kept his head held high as he walked, despite the hostile stares. The Imperial man at her brother’s side was scowling at him. He frowned back.

“So I’m Jenny, this is my cousin Lenny, and his best friend Ken.”

So he was wrong about them being siblings, but right about them being related, at least. He sat silently, listening to the three of them talk among themselves as they ate. Slowly, conversation around them picked up again as well. After a few minutes he decided to grab some food for himself, if only for something else to focus on. The food was a little heartier than he was used to, even for his kin having adapted to what foods Skyrim had to offer, but all in all, it wasn’t bad. This Alfred obviously knew his way around a kitchen.

“Good, isn’t it?” Jenny teased, watching him.

“…It passes.” Ken rolled his eyes.

“Why am I _surprised_ that you’re the picky sort?”

“Ken, play nice.”

“The Knight didn’t tell me to ‘play nice’, he just said not to kill him.”

“Oh would you quit _pouting-_ ”

“What are you guys arguing about this time?” Sirius glanced up as they were joined by another mage, this one in black robes. She looked to be Imperial, but there was something slightly off about her…

“Your ears,” Sirius murmured in surprise. The newcomer eyed him.

“Your point?”

“You’re half-”

“Like you, yes. Big whoop.” She shook her head. “You Altmer and your ‘purity of blood’… Anyway. I’m Penn.”

“So I take it this is your base of operations. And these…” He gestured to the room at large. “Must all be your highest-ranking officers?”

“No,” Penn answered, her tone curt and cold. “Take another look.”

He did.

He saw people still recovering from serious injuries, people who were quite obviously not warriors, and- was that a _teenager?_ He turned a startled look back to the mages.

“With the exception of the Knight and five others, this is all that’s left of us,” Jenny said quietly. “Master Builders, half-bloods… people who were outcast for _other_ reasons… We don’t know how many others like us are in hiding elsewhere in the world, but we here are the last of the rebel army.”

And he recognized a good lot of them from Helgen. They really _had_ almost ended the war that day. Part of him was pleased to note there were so few, and yet… He couldn’t help but admit grudging admiration that they still carried on with the war with an army of only twenty. “You must really believe in this cause of yours to continue fighting with so few of you left. I take it _this_ is why you’re so desperate to get your hands on the Dragonborn again?”

“The Dragonborn would certainly be a boon to our side, but perhaps not in the way you’re thinking. Don’t presume to know us, _Thalmor_.” Penn collected her breakfast and left. Sirius stared after her, dumbfounded and indignant, but just as he was winding up to fire a retort at her back, a hand on his arm distracted him. He turned to look at Lenny.

“Just keep your eyes and your ears open. You might be surprised by what you learn, here.”


	19. Chapter 19

Emmet opened his eyes to find himself lying on the ground, and rolled over, emptying the contents of his stomach all over the temple floor. That was… not a fun way to travel. “Urgh,” he said.

He glanced around, and frowned. The strange masked people were nowhere to be seen. It didn’t seem like very long had passed while he was in Apocrypha; did time flow differently there? He patted down his pockets, making sure he still had his journal and quill on hand, then pulled them out to write down everything he and Rex had discussed.

_“So what do I need to do to help you get out?”_

_“I need dragon souls. Obviously I can’t leave to harvest them myself, but we share a bond now, you and I. I’ll know when you- or rather, your friends- kill a dragon, and can sort of… project my presence there, for a short time, to absorb its soul. Once I have enough, I should be able to take on Hermaeus Mora and break free of this place.”_

_Emmet gaped at him. “You- you’re sure you can actually defeat a Daedric Prince? Is that even possible?”_

_Rex’s voice became grim. “Oh, it’s possible. It’s been done before.”_

And then Rex had… Emmet shuddered. Rex had explained that the only way for him to leave Apocrypha was to ‘die’ there, as it was only his soul that had traveled to Oblivion- his body was still anchored in the mortal plane. Emmet was certain that was the cause for his sour stomach; that sensation of separation and reunion was wholly unnatural.

The masked strangers still hadn’t reappeared. Emmet started to wonder if he’d have to find his own way out. He pushed himself to his feet, still feeling woozy, and stumbled his way toward another passage, hoping it was a shortcut back outside. Sure enough, it led back outside, but the temple was nowhere in sight. He fretted for a moment; he had no idea which way to go to get back to civilization, or how long it would even take, and he had no provisions to speak of. And it was bitter cold. He decided to go back inside and wait a while longer to see if his escorts would return.

~* *~

The Black Knight made his way to the next dragon mound that would be visited, curious to see a resurrection take place, and perhaps to test his skills. He crouched under the cover of some trees, and waited. He didn’t have to wait for very long.

A massive black dragon, much as Lucy had described it, flew overhead, circling the burial mound. “Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! Slen Tiid Vo!” the beast spoke, voice thundering with power. The stone covering the mound shattered, and he watched as a skeletal dragon clawed its way out of the rubble, flesh and scales growing back.

“Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?” the other dragon, Sahloknir he assumed, greeted.

“Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir.” The Knight stepped out of his cover, gaining the dragons’ attention. “Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu’u koraav nid nol dov do hi.” _So, you are Dragonborn? I see none of the dragonkind in you_ , he translated, and smirked to himself. _Well of course not._ Interesting that Alduin assumed _him_ to be the Dragonborn, though- he thought dragons could sense their kin? Perhaps it was his Voice the beast was picking up on. “You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah.”

 _‘I understand you perfectly, you great bastard. Divines, you’re an idiot if you honestly think I’m the Dragonborn,’_ he signed back. The dragons seemed dumbfounded by that, unable to make sense of his gesturing.

“Sahloknir, krii daar joor,” Alduin finally snarled, and flew away. _That’s right, run away, you big coward._ The Knight drew his greatsword, ready for the fight. Sahloknir turned his attention toward him with a snarl, and took to the sky. He circled and swooped back down, aiming a blast of frosty breath at the human, only to have it deflected by a powerful ward.

He swooped again, talons ready to slash and tear, only to be fended off again- this time by the biting edge of the Knight’s blade. He laughed cruelly. “A worthy opponent! I almost regret I have orders to end you!” The Knight only gestured rudely at him before swinging again, this time striking a wing and tearing the thin membrane. Sahloknir roared as he fell, plowing a deep gouge in the earth as he came to a rough landing. “So it’s to be a real fight!”

Another blast of frosty breath, and this time the Knight simply powered through it to slash at the dragon, slicing through a vulnerable shoulder. Sahloknir snapped at him, missing as the Knight rolled out of reach- right under his jaws. He barely had time to react before the greatsword found its way into his unprotected throat.

He released his grip on his sword as he scrambled to get away from the dying beast, Sahloknir thrashing and scratching and making the most horrid sounds as he expired. Once he was certain the dragon was dead (again), he stalked closer to retrieve his favorite weapon, yanking it free from where it had wedged into bone.

“Well that was fun,” he panted, and sat down hard. That frost breath had taken more out of him than he’d expected; he would have to rest for a bit before his legs would carry his weight again. Penn would no doubt give him an hours-long lecture on the stupidity of this whole venture, when he got back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! Slen Tiid Vo! (Sahloknir, I bind your dragon spirit for eternity! Flesh Time Undo!)
> 
> Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik? (Alduin, my lord! Has the time come to revive our ancient realm?)
> 
> Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir. Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi. (Yes, Sahloknir, my Champion. So, you are Dragonborn? I see none of the dragonkind in you.)


	20. Chapter 20

With the death of Rulindil and the disappearance of Sirius, Ondolemar had been recalled from Markarth to take charge of things at the Embassy, as the only high-ranking Thalmor officer left in Skyrim. General Callaghan wasn’t sure what to make of this. He’d heard of the Head Justiciar, but had never actually met the elf before now. Something about this particular Thalmor set him on edge.

“What’s got you so worked up?” He glanced up as the Legate approached, and she handed him a mug of something hot. Ah, so she was treating this as an ‘off-duty’ issue then. He relaxed, slumping in his chair and took a sip.

“The Head Justiciar,” he admitted. “Sirius might be the Number One Asshole at the Embassy, but I’ve never wanted to punch a Thalmor in the face as much as _this_ guy.”

“His attitude is… concerning,” Barbara agreed, staring into her own mug.

“He was out of line, to say what he said to you today,” he growled back. She smiled at him.

“As happy as it makes me to see you upset about that, I promise, I _am_ a big girl and can handle myself. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it.”

“Doesn’t make it any less offensive. No one insults my officers- or my _friends_.” She reached over, taking his hand.

“It’s a good thing you only show this side of you when it’s just the two of us. No one would ever take you seriously again, if they knew what a sweetheart you really are under all that snarling,” she teased. He huffed at her, turning away, and she laughed. “Or how easily embarrassed you are, you great goose.”

“Barbara…”

“Cary.” She smirked when he turned back to scowl at her, and reached up to ruffle his hair.

“Hey!”

“Just _try_ to keep things civil, at least? It’s only until we find Sirius again.” She tilted her head. “ _Then_ you can punch Ondolemar’s lights out. I’ll even hold him for you.”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather have the honor of doing that yourself? _You’re_ the one he insulted, after all.”

“You hit harder.” He laughed at that. He sobered up when she leaned close, resting her head against his shoulder. When they were children, no one had batted a lash at the fact that her mother was a Redguard and her father an Imperial. No one in Cyrodiil really cared who you married, as long as both parties were consenting and happy- he’d lost count of how many interspecies couples he’d seen, when they were young. But dealing with the narrow-minded Thalmor for so long had slowly worn away at her, causing doubt to creep into her soul.

It was times like this that he really missed Alastar. His brother had a way with words that Cary himself never possessed; he was nowhere near as _eloquent_ as the First Emissary, but he would have figured out exactly what to say to get the Head Justiciar to shut up. Cary had never met anyone else that could be so _infuriating_ with so few words. But Alastar had been dead and gone for fifteen years, lost somewhere in the wilderness. He had given his life to protect their youngest brother from a wayward group of Thalmor thugs, who had decided to start harassing Keelan for his scars and his stutter.

He wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps the rebels had been right all along.

~* *~

The base went into an uproar the moment Kitty and Iron-Tail returned with Vitruvius in tow. The old wizard grinned at the multitude of excited questions thrown his way.

“Alright, ye vultures, back off!” Iron-Tail barked. Kitty started giggling. “Give the man some room to breathe, would ye!”

“I’ve never met a more enthusiastic crowd,” Vitruvius joked. “I’ll be happy to answer everyone’s questions, but please, one at a time!”

“Is the Black Knight around?” Kitty asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Penn told her. “He left just this morning. But he said he wouldn’t be gone long, so he might return sometime tomorrow. Did you have any difficulties?”

“Nope! It was a piece of cake!” She grinned. “I think the Thalmor that showed up right as we were leaving had a very bad day, though.” Penn laughed at that.

“Alright everyone, settle down!” the spymaster called out. “I know you’re all eager to hear what our guest has to say, but we should wait until at least the Knight returns.”

“You don’t think the others will be back soon?”

“The way things have been going, where the Dragonborn is involved? Not likely. We’ll just have to fill them in when they return.”

“I’m told one of your missing friends has a keen interest in the Blades?” Vitruvius asked.

“That would be Lucy,” Penn confirmed. “She’s mentioned once or twice she wanted to become a member, when she was a child.”

“I do hope she won’t be gone long then, I’d like to meet the young lady.”

“She’ll be very excited to meet you as well, I’m sure.”

His attention shifted as someone else entered the hall. “Ah, it’s you. They did tell me I’m not the only guest to be brought here.”

The others turned to see Sirius and Lenny standing at the edge of the group, the Ambassador holding himself stiffly, his expression unreadable. “I take it you two have met before,” Penn ventured.

“Once. Quite a while ago. Around thirty-five years, I would say? Thirtieth of Frostfall, wasn’t it?”

Sirius eyed him warily. “Why are you being so blithe about this?”

“I’m too old to carry grudges anymore.”

“What’s the significance of that date?” Kitty whispered.

“It’s when the Great War started,” Vitruvius answered, keeping his gaze on the Thalmor. “Sirius and his father came to the Imperial palace with a covered cart, a ‘gift’, they said, and an ultimatum for the Empire. It was quite a list of demands- many of which made it into the White-Gold Concordat and wound up being enforced anyway. When the Emperor refused, Arcturus turned the cart over, dumping more than a hundred heads all over the floor- the heads of every Blades operative in Valenwood and Summerset.”

Sirius shifted uncomfortably at the overwhelming silence that followed. “Your people came into _our_ territories to stir up trouble. We responded accordingly.”

“Because we knew the Dominion would be a threat to the rest of Tamriel. As you have obviously proven yourselves since. We thought we could more than handle the Thalmor, and nip the problem in the bud.”

“And you have the nerve to call _us_ arrogant,” Sirius scoffed. “At least _we_ didn’t assassinate the _wrong ambassador_.”

“Yes, well. Obviously we ‘learned our lesson’, as I am the last of the Blades. But we’ve got bigger things to worry about now, which is why I’m here. So if we could set aside our differences and work together to put an end to the dragon problem?”  He held a hand out. Sirius merely sneered down at him and walked away. “Thought that might be too much to hope for.” He turned to Penn. “I’m surprised you actually managed to capture him.”

“Yeah, so are we,” Penn agreed. “Unforeseen circumstances worked in our favor, for once, and presented an opportunity we couldn’t pass up on. The Black Knight hopes to be able to change his mind about us.”

“Well, good luck with that.”

“I know, we’re going to need it…”


	21. Chapter 21

He’d been waiting for nearly an hour, now. He’d gone back outside a couple times to drink some water from the stream flowing right by the exit- it was the clearest, freshest water he’d ever tasted, but Divines was it _cold_ \- but remained inside where it was warm, for the most part. Finally, he started to hear a commotion echoing its way through the tunnel from the great hall. It sounded like- fighting?

He pushed himself back to his feet and made his way back to the hall, peeking around the statue to see what was going on. He nearly leapt with joy when he saw who was there, killing the last of the draugrs.

“LUCY!!”

“Emmet?!” He stepped out from behind the statue so she could see him, and she sprinted toward him, throwing her arms around him when she got close. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” He hugged her back, reveling in the embrace. “Those creepy jerks didn’t hurt you, did they?” He blushed when she started checking him over for injuries.

“Uh, well- they were kind of rough, but I’m not hurt, I promise. How did you find me?”

“With the help of a dark elf wizard that lives here, Neloth of House Telvanni. He’s been studying the strange phenomena going on around the island, the way people are in these weird trances, building structures around the Elemental Stones. He told us to come find the temple in the center of the island,” said one of Lucy’s friends. Emmet recognized her as the tall elf lady he’d met way back at Helgen. Goodness, had that really even been _that_ long ago?

“Guy’s a stuck-up jerk,” huffed Lucy’s other friend. Emmet didn’t recognize him. Lucy seemed to pick up on the look he was giving her companions.

“Oh, right,” she murmured. “Emmet, this is Mayhem, our second in command, and this is Bruce, he’s in charge of our information network. Guys, this is Emmet, the Dragonborn.”

“A pleasure to meet you _properly_ ,” Mayhem joked, and took Emmet’s hand when he offered it. He smiled back at her, but shrank away at the scrutinizing stare Bruce was giving him.

“Knock it off, Bruce,” Lucy huffed. “And let’s get out of here, this place seriously gives me the jeebies.”

“Me too,” Emmet mumbled. “I found a shortcut over here.”

Bruce stared at him. “You found a way out, and didn’t _leave?_ ”

“I don’t know the way back…”

“ _Bruce_ ,” Lucy hissed in warning. “Quit being such an antagonistic jerk.” She turned back to Emmet. “Why don’t you show us?”

“Sure,” he agreed, taking them down the side tunnel. The sky was dark when they stepped out, and Emmet gasped at the green haze. “What is that…?”

“You didn’t see that on the way here?”

“I spent most of the trip being seasick…”

“It’s some sort of spell,” Bruce answered. “A very _powerful_ spell, probably what has so many people here entranced. At least that’s what Neloth thinks.”

“Does he know who cast it?”

“We asked,” Mayhem answered. “He didn’t know.”

“Come on, let’s get back to Raven Rock,” Lucy said. “There’s no way I’m setting up camp out here.”

“Agreed,” Mayhem sighed.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon again by the time they made it to the Dunmer settlement. Emmet was struggling to keep on his feet and his eyes open as they stumbled into the corner club- the closest thing Raven Rock had to an inn. The Dragonborn was out cold before he was even fully horizontal, which made Mayhem giggle. “Oh, the poor boy,” she murmured, watching as Lucy tried to make him a little more comfortable.

Emmet had talked a lot on the trip back, at least for the first half of it. He was too tired to focus on much else but putting one foot in front of the other for the second half. It was mostly about his conversation with the Ambassador, how he was nearly accused of purposely causing a distraction at the party (which had his three companions cracking up that he’d actually gotten away with it), and then the trek across Skyrim to Solstheim with his kidnappers. He kept unusually mum about anything that might have happened in the temple, though, which made Lucy suspicious. Though he’d insisted he was fine- and he’d been completely honest with her thus far- she couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps something _had_ happened.

The thought made her sick to her stomach. She hoped he’d open up to her about it when he ready- though preferably sooner than later.

~* *~

It was late afternoon when he returned. Alfred greeted him and informed him of the nearness of supper, to which he only nodded, and continued on his way. The energy of the place had changed during his brief absence. There was excitement, and also tension. When he followed the voices and stepped into the dining hall, he discovered the reason for that- Kitty and Iron-Tail had been successful in their mission. He could only guess the former Blades member and the First Emissary had a run-in with each other at some point.

“You’re back!” Kitty cheered.

_‘I’m back.’_

“We can start asking questions now!” The Knight turned to Penn, tilting his head in askance.

“I made them wait until you returned before bombarding Vitruvius with their thousand questions,” she explained with a chuckle.

_‘I see. I suppose I returned at a good time, then.’_

“Indeed you did,” Vitruvius agreed, making his way over to introduce himself. “You must be the Black Knight I’ve been hearing so much about.”

_‘That’s me. And you’re Vitruvius.’_

Vitruvius grinned up at him. “Now that introductions have been made, shall we get started?”

The remaining few stragglers trickled in as supper was brought out, and the Knight noticed that even the Ambassador had joined them- no doubt curious to hear what Vitruvius had to say about the dragons, as well. The old wizard answered every question they fired at him with remarkable patience, explaining everything he knew. He told them about Alduin, the World-Eater, who terrorized mortalkind during the Merethic Era, some four thousand and five hundred years before, and began the Dragon Cult in mankind’s ancient homeland of Atmora.

“He was stopped, but not _truly_ defeated,” Vitruvius explained. “Our ancestors knew that one day he would return, and bring with him the end of the world. I despaired over this for the longest time; after all, there hadn’t been any Dragonborn for two hundred years.”

“But then we all heard the summons,” Jenny said. Vitruvius nodded. “But from what Lucy tells us, he’s really not a fighter…”

“I can confirm that,” Sirius sighed. “He was… not at all what I was expecting of a Dragonborn, when I met him.”

 _‘Which is why I assigned Lucy to him- she is a fighter, and one of our best. But things are going to get harder the longer this goes on. There are many dragons, and only one Dragonborn. We must help where we can, and work together to end this threat.’_ The Knight fell still for a moment _. ‘They’ve already started attacking smaller settlements. I passed several burned-down houses while I was gone, and I didn’t go very far.’_ The hall fell into uncomfortable silence at that. _‘I did manage to kill one, though, and made some useful discoveries.’_

“Like what?” Penn asked.

_‘Wards can block their breath attacks, though you must use a stronger ward. A lower-level ward will simply shatter upon contact. Also, go for the wings. You tear the membrane, and they can’t fly any more. A grounded dragon is easier to fight. And if you’re feeling especially daring, their throats are vulnerable.’_

“You actually went out to find a dragon’s weak spots _yourself?_ ” Sirius asked, incredulous.

_‘Any reason I shouldn’t?’_

“I just-” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re their leader, these people obviously look up to you and hold you in high regard. If you’d died…”

“We hold him in such high regard _because_ he’s willing to put his life on the line for us,” Ken told him, scowling at him. “Also, if any one of us could ever hold their own against a dragon by themselves, it’s him. I mean, have you ever _seen_ him fight?”

“Once,” Sirius muttered. “Maniac.” A few snickers went up around him. He wondered at that. It was certainly a different dynamic than he was used to- the other Thalmor always just scolded him like some child, whenever he decided to take his life into his own hands. And actively going out to fight battles? Forget it; they’d sooner chain him up in one of the prison cells than let him on the battlefield.

He watched as the Knight went around the table, speaking with the other rebels before gathering his own supper and bidding everyone goodnight. He didn’t seem to treat them as underlings, but as equals, and he seemed to care about each of them quite a bit. Their strong sense of companionship made him almost uncomfortable; he’d never experienced such a thing with the Thalmor.

He would have to continue his observations, and see if there was perhaps a way to use it against them.


	22. Chapter 22

Emmet picked at his breakfast the next morning, only managing to get half of it down before shoving the rest away. “Emmet?” Lucy asked.

“I’m getting seasick just _thinking_ about sailing again,” he mumbled miserably. She patted his shoulder in commiseration.

“It’ll be fine, it’s not that long of a trip.” It was a few minutes before she spoke again. “So when are you going to tell us what happened in the temple?”

Emmet chewed on his lip. “I…”

She reached across the table, gently squeezing his wrist. “They didn’t… _do_ anything to you, did they…?”

His eyes widened at her insinuation. “Oh, no! I mean I might have some bruises from them yanking me along, they _really_ weren’t gentle, I just… I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I don’t know how much of what happened was real, and how much of it I just dreamed up, it was _so_ weird.”

Lucy tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“There was a book, a black book, that they told me to read, and it kind of-sucked me into it? And there were these creepy tentacle creatures, and a guy there- and a dragon, I almost forgot! He was riding a dragon!”

“A guy…?”

“Yeah, he said his name was Rex, and that he’s a Dragonborn too!”

“I admit, it does all sound like a fever dream… but for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve heard of those Black Books, and they’re _not_ something you want to be messing around with. They belong to Hermaeus Mora.”

“You know, Rex did mention him a couple times. He’s the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, right?” Lucy nodded.

“What else did this Rex guy tell you?”

“That he’s trapped, and is trying to get back out… Hermaeus Mora tricked him into going into Apocrypha, and now he won’t let him back out. He says he’s been stuck there for a very long time…”

Lucy chewed on her lip, lost in thought. Maybe Emmet could trust a stranger at the drop of a hat, but Lucy was wary of anyone who got in with the Daedric Princes. “And he asked for your help?”

“He did.”

“And you agreed.” Emmet nodded. “Alright,” she sighed. “Just- promise me you’ll keep your guard up? I know you want to believe him, but Mora is a master manipulator, I wouldn’t trust _anyone_ that’s a follower of him. If Rex has been there as long as you say, it stands to reason he's learned all of Mora's tricks.”

Emmet slumped. “You don’t think he’s telling the truth…?”

“I don’t know Emmet, I haven’t met him. I’m just telling you what I think based on what you’ve told me, and what I know of Hermaeus Mora.”

“Is that what Hermaeus Mora’s followers are usually like?”

“No,” Lucy murmured, “and that’s what worries me. Usually they’re obsessed with knowledge, and discovering it, to the point it drives them mad. To the point of incoherence, even. He sounds like he’s still perfectly lucid.”

“Maybe because he’s Dragonborn?”

“Maybe,” Lucy agreed, and squeezed his hand. “I still advise caution though.”

“Okay.”

~* *~

The base was pretty impressive, from what Sirius had seen of it. Not that he could have expected anything less, given that it had been carved out of the stone by a Master Builder's hands. But it was very well set up, and he noted what seemed to be several escape routes. They usually came and went by the main entrance (which Sirius had yet to discover), but the escape routes had been put in place in the event they were discovered by the Legion- or an earthquake occurred. They were intentionally made easy to find so they wouldn’t have to think about which way they needed to go, in case of just such an emergency.

The place was still something of a maze to him, though, so he couldn’t think of using them just yet. He had to prepare, and make them trust him enough that he wasn’t constantly watched. Then he could attempt an escape.

Even with the 'freedom' he’d been granted, he was quickly getting bored. He was used to having _too much_ to do, and now, he had almost nothing with which to occupy himself. Jenny and Lenny were nice enough to talk to, he supposed- they were about the only ones that bothered to, anyway. Vitruvius tried to as well, but Sirius still couldn’t stomach talking to the Blades' loremaster. Everyone else pretty well avoided him for the most part.

So it was something of a surprise when the Black Knight himself sat at the table across from him, as he picked at his lunch, and asked him if there was anything he would like.

“For you to let me go,” he growled back.

_‘I’m afraid I can’t do that at this time. Too much of a security risk; we have nowhere else to go.’_

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he grumbled. “Let me see your face, then.”

That earned him a huff of amusement. _‘Can’t do that either. If I remove any piece of my armor, I stop functioning.’_

“…Are you seriously telling me you’re an _enchanted suit of armor??_ ”

_‘It’s certainly one of the more entertaining rumors going around.’_

Sirius surprised himself with his laughter. It really wasn’t even all that funny, but after having been so tense and on guard for the past few days, it was just the right amount of ridiculous to get a reaction out of him. He frowned, partly at himself for letting his guard down like that, and partly at the Knight. “Why do you even care what I’d like? I’m your _prisoner_ , aren’t I?” He turned away, grumbling to himself. “Wouldn’t even _be_ here if that damned glamour hadn’t failed…” Which he’d have to look into; it shouldn’t have just up and stopped working like that. It hadn’t in all the years his father had cast it for him as a child, or in all the years he’d been casting it on himself. So either someone had had a dimstone on them- not likely, given the amount of magic that was flying around that night- or someone _knew_ he was using a glamour and broke the enchantment. But that begged the question- _who?_

He looked back up as the Knight drummed his fingers on the table. _‘Always did like silver better than gold.’_

It took Sirius a moment to realize what he was getting at, and he scowled. “Why, because it’s a _human_ color?” he spat.

_‘Because it’s different. High elves always strive to maintain that ‘Aldmer Ideal’- gold hair, gold eyes, gold skin. It’s refreshing, to see someone who breaks the mold.’_

Sirius gave him a curious look, not quite sure what to make of that statement. “Are… are you calling Altmer ugly?”

 _‘I’m calling them gaudy and artificial. But you’re real. When you’re not hiding behind magic.’_ A moment of silence as the Ambassador mulled that over, and then, _‘are you sure there’s nothing you want?’_

“…Something to do would be nice. I’m _bored_.”

_‘Why don’t you come with me to the arena then?’_

Sirius stared. “ _Arena??_ ”


	23. Chapter 23

“Ship’s still there and in one piece,” Bruce announced as he came back into the corner club. “You two lovebirds ready to go?” Lucy only rolled her eyes as she pushed herself away from the table, used to Bruce’s needling, but Emmet turned an interesting shade of scarlet. Bruce smirked to himself. _Kid’s got it bad._

Mayhem finished loading provisions onto their boat, and took a moment to give herself a pep talk. It had been easy enough to find the island, with the strange green glow that hovered over it at night, but finding the way back to Skyrim would be a challenge. She just hoped she could remember everything Iron-Tail had taught her about navigation.

She glanced over as the other three joined her on the boat. “You okay?” Lucy asked.

“Hoping I don’t get us lost,” Mayhem admitted.

“You’ve always had a great sense of direction, May. I trust you.”

“Well at least one of us has confidence in me,” Mayhem said, but she was smiling.

When they did make it back to Skyrim (and without getting lost along the way), it was just in time for a dragon to swoop over their heads, heading right for Windhelm.

~* *~

The moment the Knight had challenged the Ambassador, Ken (who’d had the misfortune of being assigned his escort for the day) grinned broadly and sprinted off to round up the rest of their rag-tag group. After all, it wasn’t every day they got to see their leader showing off.

Everyone gathered around to watch the sparring match as the two men stepped into the ‘arena’- little more than a dirt pit with a split-rail fence to mark its boundaries, but it served its purpose well enough. Sirius chose an elven sword and shield (no doubt the spoils of one of their victories) from among the supply of weapons, briefly testing them. He was somewhat surprised to note that they had been improved somewhere along the line, no doubt by one of the Master Builders that resided there. They far surpassed their original quality. He turned to the Knight to see that he too was armed with sword and shield, though in his signature ebony.

Briefly, he entertained the thought that this was going to wind up being a public execution, that the Knight was only humoring him before he would claim his head, but pushed the notion away. From what he had observed so far, that wasn’t the sort of person the Knight was. So he brought up his sword and shield, and made the first move.

Vitruvius nudged his way up to the fence, watching in curious silence for a few minutes. “Your Black Knight is quite remarkable,” he commented. “He fights like no warrior I’ve ever seen before, and yet he has kindness to match.”

“He really is something,” Watevra agreed, smiling. “There were… a lot of us that wouldn’t be here, if not for him. Myself included.”

“Were?”

Her gaze fell. “Many of them died anyway, but at least they got the chance to die fighting for their freedom, rather than being slaughtered like animals. I may not agree with using violence to make a point, but even I can recognize when there’s no other course of action.” They both glanced back to the arena at the thunder of Sirius’ Lightning Bolt spell, and subsequent shout of “you have an _enchanted_ shield?! That’s not fair!” Watevra laughed so hard she wheezed, and Vitruvius grinned, when the Knight only made a cheeky gesture in response. A number of the other onlookers chuckled as well.

Watevra’s laughter died down when she noticed how harshly Sirius was breathing, and the way he swayed slightly on his feet. He was so dead-set on winning the match he didn’t even seem to notice it himself, as he lunged at the Knight again. It took obvious effort to deflect the blow. _Has he- yep, he noticed_ , she thought, watching as the Knight’s body language changed from alert to alarmed. “What’s wrong?” Vitruvius asked when she frowned.

“I’m not sure, but _something’s_ up with the Ambassador,” she murmured in response. Sirius’ sword was knocked from his hands, sliding across the dirt to come to a stop at Lloyd’s feet. He dropped his shield as well, blinking up at the Knight before keeling over. Several cries of alarm went up at that, and Watevra launched herself over the fence even as the Knight knelt down to check on the Ambassador. Their fight hadn’t even drawn blood, so clearly something else was wrong. He glanced up at her as she slid to a halt at their side, raising his hands to sign- then froze as a loud _BOOM_ overhead shook the whole cavern. Every head tilted back in obvious alarm as loose stone rained down on their heads.

“What was _that?!_ ”

“How much ye wanna bet it be a dragon?”

The Knight looked back to Watevra. “Go,” she said firmly. “Jenny and I will take care of him, you go make sure whatever _that_ was isn’t going to bring the whole base down on our heads.” He nodded and shot back to his feet, gesturing for whoever was willing to follow as he sprinted for one of the exits. Kitty and Iron-Tail raced after him, followed by Vitruvius.

Watevra glanced down at the unconscious Ambassador, and hefted him into her arms. Her frown deepened; he was surprisingly light. Jenny jogged over to her. “What do you think happened?”

“I’m not certain just yet, but I have a hunch…”


	24. Chapter 24

It was indeed a dragon raising hell in the city above them, a massive white and dark blue beast with a ridge of wicked-looking spikes down its spine. Kitty cheered to find Lucy, Mayhem, and Bruce had returned, and were already fighting it, along with several city guards. It blasted them with its freezing breath as it dove down, driving them to their knees as the bitter cold weakened them.

Kitty gave a war cry as she called her magic to her hands, striking the dragon with her lightning spells. It let out a startled shriek, slamming into a building hard enough to destroy it. Iron-Tail hefted his massive warhammer and ran straight for it as it lay flailing in a pile of rubble, giving the beast an impressive strike to its skull. The Knight wasn’t far behind him. Snarling in outrage, the dragon spat an ice ball at them, trying to drive them away.

Lucy forced her shaking legs back under her and drew her twin blades, stumbling toward the dragon. There was no way she could perform another impressive feat as she had at the watchtower, in her current weakened state, but there was no way she was going to let her friends have _all_ the fun. She didn’t even flinch as a crossbow bolt whistled past her, picking up speed as movement got her blood flowing again. The dragon was putting up an impressive fight, keeping Iron-Tail and the Knight at bay with frosty breath and sharp-bladed tail. The Captain snarled indignantly as the beast snatched his warhammer from his hands and flung it far away. The Knight slashed at its throat, but this one’s scales were even tougher than the last dragon he’d faced, and he barely managed more than a scratch.

Another bolt shot past, this one lodging itself in a sensitive spot just under the dragon’s wing, and it whipped around with a scream. It almost startled to come face to face with Lucy, and opened its mouth to snap her up, but she was faster, driving one of her swords into its soft palate. It thrashed and writhed and shook its head, screeching awfully the entire time, before finally slumping to the ground. Lucy grimaced, planting a foot against its jaw as she yanked her sword free again.

“That was impressive,” Vitruvius praised. “How long were you fighting that dragon before _they_ showed up?”

“A couple minutes, maybe,” Lucy panted. “Not long.” She glanced over as Iron-Tail grumbled, jogging away to fetch his warhammer. “You’re with them?” They both watched as Mayhem made her way over to the Knight, the two of them clasping each other’s shoulders in greeting.

“In a sense. I take it you’re friends.”

“Yeah. We’re with them. I’m Lucy, and that’s Mayhem, and that’s Bruce. And Emmet…” She glanced around. “Oh, there he is.”

“Are you okay?!” Emmet gasped as he made his way toward her, stumbling out of whatever hidey-hole he’d been shoved into during the chaos.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “A little chilled, but nothing a nice hot cup of Alfred’s chicken broth won’t cure.”

“Okay.” He startled when he realized they weren’t alone. “Oh! Hi, who are you?”

Vitruvius gave him an amused look. “I’m-”

He was interrupted as the dragon burst into flames. Lucy stared in confusion as they _didn’t_ burn toward Emmet, but elsewhere. In fact, they didn’t stray far from the dragon’s corpse at all.

Standing at its side, unusually transparent, was another man in dark blue and green robes, his face hidden behind a golden mask reminiscent of Emmet’s kidnappers. Lucy stared in confused horror as _he_ was the one to absorb the dragon’s soul. “Thank you for your help,” he said, bowing his head slightly in Emmet’s direction, and vanished.

“What. Was _that_ ,” Bruce demanded once he could find his voice again.

“Rex?” Lucy guessed, turning back to Emmet.

“Yeah, that was Rex,” Emmet confirmed. “You guys could- actually _see_ him? He’s really not just a figment of my imagination?”

“I definitely saw him,” Mayhem said, and shuddered.

“Rex; Rex… Now why does that name sound familiar,” Vitruvius mused. The Knight approached them then, Kitty at his side, and Iron-Tail catching up once he’d retrieved his weapon. Emmet shrank back at the sight of him, eyes wide.

“Oh- Emmet no, it’s okay! This is the Black Knight!” Lucy hurried to introduce.

 _‘So this is our Dragonborn?’_ Emmet relaxed, but only stared in confusion at his signing.

“You’re Dragonborn?” Vitruvius asked, staring intently at Emmet now.

“Uhh…” He chewed his lip. “Yeah.”

“And whoever this ‘Rex’ fellow is, he’s also Dragonborn.” Emmet nodded. Vitruvius glanced up at the Knight. The Knight stared back. “…I think we all need to sit down and have a nice long talk about what exactly this could mean for us.”

After some prompting from Emmet, and reinforcement from the Knight, the Master Builders repaired the buildings that had been damaged during the fight. The citizens of the city had been kind enough to keep the presence of the rebels a secret; it was only fair that they used their abilities to fix the destruction they’d inadvertently caused. After a bout of inspiration from Lucy, the dragon’s skeleton had been dismantled, and as much of it as they could carry brought into the base. Most of the bones were taken to the forge; the skull, however, now hung proudly in the dining hall.

Once introductions were out of the way (and Lucy practically had stars in her eyes once she learned the strange old wizard was _the_ Vitruvius), they did indeed sit down to discuss the situation. They’d all been given mugs of Alfred’s piping hot chicken broth at the housecarl’s insistence, gratefully soaking in its heat as they recovered from the fight with the dragon. Nearly everyone else had crowded around them as well, wanting a glimpse of the fabled Dragonborn. The only exceptions were the Ambassador, who was confirmed to still be unconscious, and Watevra and Jenny.

“If it helps any, Rex said he was the first Dragonborn,” Emmet offered.

Vitruvius frowned at that. “But that would mean he’s _thousands_ of years old. That can’t be right.”

“He’s been stuck in Apocrypha this whole time.”

“…Apocrypha, you say?”

“Is that ringing a bell?” Penn asked.

“It is, actually. I think I remember reading about it, now. His true name has been lost to time, but Rex was indeed the first Dragonborn. Despite this, he became a priest of the dragons, and was highly esteemed and _very_ powerful. They trusted him to the point that they let him rule over Solstheim. Then, for reasons unknown, he turned against them, becoming something they feared. He turned on his masters, using his power as the Dragonborn to devour their souls. The ancient heroes- Hakon, Gormlaith, and Felldir- they _begged_ him for his aid in defeating Alduin, but he refused them, starting his own rebellion. They say the fight was _terrible_ , but he was eventually defeated by another Dragon Priest, and his temple razed to the ground. There were rumors, whispers really, that he’d had a Black Book in his possession. Given the fact that the Priest that defeated him had sworn an oath of vigilance to watch for his return… He very well _could_ have been in Apocrypha this whole time.”

“That’s pretty much everything he told me,” Emmet confirmed. “Well, except the bit about the heroes, he never mentioned them. Or that he was defeated by another Priest.”

“I’m sure _that_ really stung his pride,” Lucy mumbled.

“But I think he genuinely _wants_ to be a better person,” Emmet continued. “Maybe he refused the heroes, but he agreed to help _me_ with Alduin.”

“Did he?” Vitruvius seemed intrigued by that. “Hm. Perhaps his time in Apocrypha has humbled him.”

“But I still don’t think we should trust him-” Lucy started to argue.

“Oh no, I agree with you on that,” Vitruvius interrupted. “But perhaps we should allow him the chance to prove himself, instead of writing him off completely. Another ally against the World-Eater could prove most valuable.”


	25. Chapter 25

Sirius slowly became aware of the world around him once more. He felt weak, and his head was throbbing. Had he suffered a blow during the fight? He couldn’t remember if he had.

The room was warm, and dimly lit, and he wasn’t alone. He heard quiet murmuring. He recognized Watevra’s voice, but not that of the man she was speaking to. He forced his eyes open-

-and jolted when he was met with disturbingly familiar bright blue and yellow. He winced as the action caused fresh pains to shoot through his skull. “Good morning sleeping beauty~” the man sang down at him from where he was perched on the headboard, grinning broadly. “Forcing yourself to be something you’re not takes a certain sort of _madness_ , you know?”

“Come to claim my soul then, have you?” Sirius grumbled in response.

“Nah, I just dropped by to say hi to Evvie and everyone else. And to see what sort of mischief you’ve been getting up to. Though I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve been so busy plotting to pull one over on my friends here, that you didn’t realize you only managed to pull one over on _yourself_. Trying to maintain that elfish figure?”

Sirius scowled up at him. “I don’t see how that’s your business-”

“You _made_ it my business,” the Daedra cut him off, poking his nose. “Especially when you made Evvie all upset about you not taking proper care of yourself, just so you could maintain that illusion of the ‘Aldmer Ideal’.”

“I-”

“I don’t think you mortals realize how much it breaks my heart to have to claim those whose madness makes them _hurt themselves_. I _don’t_ want to have to claim you- I _know_ you’re smarter than this.”

Sirius frowned thoughtfully up at him. What an unusual turn of phrase for a Daedra to use. Come to think of it, he looked awfully _plain_ for a Daedra…

Awfully _human_.

“You are _way_ too serious to possibly be the Mad God I’ve heard so much about.”

Said Mad God grinned down at him again. “I have my moments. Now. If I hear of you _starving yourself_ again, I _will_ sit on you and force-feed you. And if you continue to insist on it, at least don’t go picking fights on top of it.”

“I _wasn’t_ -”

“You were,” Watevra interrupted softly. “Jenny said she noticed you haven’t been eating much. And I think it’s like Benny said- you’re trying too hard to fit in with a society that will _never_ accept you.”

“I’m the _First Emissary!_ ” Sirius protested. “You can’t possibly think they’d give me such an important role if-”

“You didn’t make yourself so useful?” Benny finished. Sirius’ mouth snapped shut, and they could see the doubt creeping into his gaze.

“You know _very well_ what the Aldmeri Dominion thinks about people like you,” Watevra continued. “It’s why _we’re_ all here, after all. What do you think is going to happen to you the moment they decide you’re _not_ useful anymore? That’s why you try to hide your human half, isn’t it?”

“…Why do you even care? I’m not one of your _precious rebels_.”

“Cause that’s what Evvie does, she cares about people, and does whatever she can to help. Just like BK.”

“ _Bee-Kay?_ Who the heck is _that?_ ”

Watevra giggled. “The Black Knight. Benny likes to give people nicknames.”

“Hence why she’s Evvie.” The door opened then, and Jenny scooted her way in with a tray of food. “Ooh, now it’s a party!”

“Benny!” Jenny cheered, and set the tray on the night table. He hopped down from his perch to accept her hug. Sirius turned his attention back to Watevra as the two chatted excitedly.

“He’s really not at all what I was expecting.”

“Like he said, he has his moments. Most days are good anyway, but some… Some are very rough. But that’s his story to tell.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that you’re all apparently friends. I could have sworn I heard the Knight curse when he showed up, the night I was captured.”

Watevra smirked at that. “Oh, we have nothing to _fear_ from him. But his obsessive ramblings can wear even on those with the most patience.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Dwemer inventions. Airships in particular.” She groaned softly at the considering light in Sirius’ eyes. “Oh, Divines. Not you too. No wonder he seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“Well, not just Dwemer,” he admitted. Benny’s attention seemed to be riveted to him now, having overheard them. “I happen to have an interest in ancient civilizations in general. I have quite a collection of relics, at the Embassy.”

“Reeeeaaaaallly??” Benny bounced. “Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about them-”

“Later,” Watevra hissed, swatting at him. “You can pick his brain _after_ he’s recovered, got it? As it is, you’ll just wear him out all over again.”

“Ohh, fine,” Benny sulked. “Ruin my fun.”

“Why don’t you go meet the Dragonborn?” Jenny suggested. “Everybody’s in the dining-” He squealed and blinked away. “-hall,” she finished, shaking her head.

“Nice save,” Watevra chuckled, and even Sirius found himself smiling. “Now you. _Eat_.”

He sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

~* *~

As they continued to talk, Emmet relaxed. The Black Knight had certainly _looked_ plenty intimidating at first, but as Emmet started to get to know him, he saw that the Knight was actually a very nice person, and even a little silly, under the frightening appearance. He found he very much liked the rest of Lucy’s friends, too. Iron-Tail had also seemed scary at first, standing even taller than the Knight and just as broad, and the Argonian’s resemblance to the dragons was more than a little off-putting, but he discovered the ex-pirate was fond of telling stories, and he was currently regaling the group with tales of his adventures in his former life. Kitty (which he was surprised was what she actually preferred to be called, when it was usually used in such a derogatory manner toward her kind) was cheerful and sweet, and quick to make him feel welcome.

Penn was a little… intense, but also very nice, as were Ken and Lenny. Emmet was mildly surprised at the way the two men stayed pressed close together, but made no mention of it. They also told him about the fourth member of their mini-group, Lenny’s cousin Jenny, who was almost every bit as bubbly and sweet as Kitty, but was currently caring for a patient. As was Watevra, who they referred to as their Queen. It was their hope to put her on the throne in Solitude, if they ever managed to win this war. Alfred’s calm sass as he prodded his wayward master into accepting he needed some down-time to recover had Emmet in a fit of giggles. And Lloyd… Lloyd was surprisingly young, he found. He’d been with the rebellion for several years, but only just turned eighteen a few weeks ago.

Emmet fell silent. The air felt suddenly charged, like lightning about to strike, then-

He nearly screamed when arms wrapped around him and a warm weight pressed to his back, and an enthusiastic “Hi!” was chirped into his ear. Iron-Tail threw his head back and laughed, as Kitty bounced and squealed “Benny!”

“Oh, no,” Lucy groaned, a sentiment Bruce echoed.

“Uh. Hi?” Emmet responded, turning to see a mass of bright copper curls.

“I’m Benny!”

“Um. I’m Emmet?”

“Wow, you’re the Dragonborn! It’s been _ages_ since I last met a Dragonborn!” His assailant released him and finally moved to where Emmet could see him. He seemed nice enough, even if Emmet was getting some crazy _weird_ vibes from him. “About two hundred years, really, give or take.”

“I remember you!” Emmet finally exclaimed. “You were there that night in Solitude!” He had just barely caught a glimpse of bright blue and yellow before he’d been dragged through the gates.

“Yeah!” Benny enthused. “Man, that was _fun_. We should do it again sometime!”

“How about _no_ ,” Bruce grumbled.

“So, uh. How did you just- pop out of nowhere like that? I’ve never heard of any spells that could do that…”

“None that mortals know, anyway,” Benny said with a wink. Emmet stared in confusion. “Daedric Prince of Madness, at your service,” he introduced himself, bowing with a flourish. Emmet’s look of confusion turned to one of alarm.

“It’s alright,” Lucy sighed. “He’s one of the rare _good_ ones. He’s on our side.”

“You didn’t sound too happy to see him…”

“Cause he’s _annoying_.” Benny snickered. Emmet relaxed, feeling assured of his initial assessment once again. He felt he might actually like Benny, once he got to know him.


	26. Chapter 26

“So the Knight, is he mute?” Emmet asked as Lucy dragged him… somewhere, he hadn’t been paying too much attention when she said where they were going.

“He says he’s not, but none of us have ever heard him speak,” she answered.

“Then why use sign if he _can_ talk?”

“For safety reasons, I guess- his own, if not ours. He’s told us he’ll show us who he is someday, when the fighting is over. But while the war is still going on, it’s a bad idea.”

“Why? Is he some sort of criminal? Or maybe royalty in disguise? I mean I suppose that makes sense, not wanting everyone to know you’re royalty when you’re trying to put someone _else_ on the throne-”

“I don’t know, Emmet, and nobody really wants to pry. All that matters to us is that he’s a good leader, and he cares about us.”

“Okay,” he accepted, and looked around. “Where is this?”

Lucy fought the urge to roll her eyes. “The arena, remember?”

“What are we doing here?”

“I’m going to try to teach you how to defend yourself, so we don’t have a repeat of what happened in Solitude. Somehow I get the feeling those masked weirdos aren’t going to be the last people to try to grab you. I hate to think of what a bunch of daedric cultists might do with the blood of a Dragonborn…”

“But I don’t like fighting…”

“I know,” Lucy said with as much patience as she could muster. “But we’re going to be facing a lot of people who _do_ like fighting, and are very good at it. I’m going to teach you how to avoid getting hit, and how to escape if someone does manage to grab you again. Once you get the hang of that, Kitty will help you learn some spells.” Emmet made a face at that. “Not all magic is of the Destruction school. She can teach you how to cast wards, how to heal yourself, how to stun or startle someone who’s attacking you, how to hide yourself, and even how to summon atronachs to fight for you if you _can’t_ get away by any other means.”

Emmet sighed, and nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. Now go grab one of those shields, the first thing we’re going to do is teach you how to block.” He nodded, walking over to pick one out, and came back.

“Um. Can you show me how this thing goes on…?” Lucy huffed a quiet laugh and helped him get the shield adjusted.

“We’ll have to see about getting you some proper armor, too.”

~* *~

Sirius decided he’d had enough of bedrest only a couple hours after waking up again. He was honestly feeling better now, after having eaten every bite of the meal Jenny had brought him under Watevra’s watchful glare (even if it did get difficult to swallow it all down about halfway through), and complained until he’d annoyed them enough to let him up. Jenny only laughed when he made a beeline for the door and let himself out, following him into the hallway. She caught up to him quickly enough and looped her arm through his, startling him with the friendly gesture.

“You’re going to be keeping a closer eye on my eating habits now, aren’t you?” he grumbled.

“Certainly,” she chirped in response. “Now that we know it’s going to be a problem.” She reflexively hugged his arm when he tried to pull away, his posture tense. “Sirius?”

“ _Let go,_ ” he hissed, tugging harder. She released her hold on him, giving him a worried look.

“Did I say something wrong?” He clenched his jaw as he stalked away, intent on ignoring her for as long as possible. “Talk to me,” she pleaded, hurrying after him. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s _wrong_.”

“You’re all alike!” he snarled, whirling back to face her. “Thinking you know what’s best for me! Everybody’s gotta control what Sirius eats! He’s too fat for the elves, and too skinny for the humans!” Her jaw dropped.

“…I see,” she murmured softly after a while. “I take it you’ve heard those words before.” He only snorted in response. “For what it’s worth, Watevra really is only concerned about your health. I mean come on, you _passed out_. That scared the crap out of us! Like it or not, you’re _half human_. You’re _never_ going to fit their standards, no matter how much you starve yourself, or hide behind your magic, or behave like an arrogant asshole like every other Thalmor we’ve ever met.” He stared in dumbfounded shock. He’d never heard her curse before. “And honestly? They’re not _worth_ that effort anyway. Maybe they’re nice enough to your face, but you should ask Penn about some of the conversations she’s overheard while out on missions. They don’t care about _you_ , Sirius, you’re only an asset to them, and they’ll keep stringing you along as long as they can make you believe you’re important to them. I know it’s an uncomfortable truth to face when that life is all you’ve ever known, but it _is_ truth.”

He clenched his fists, glaring down at her. She only stared calmly, if sadly, back up at him, until he couldn’t look anymore and had to turn away. He really didn’t know how much longer he could stand staying with the rebels. Compassion was such a strange, _alien_ thing to him. It had merely annoyed him at first. It was a weakness, something to be exploited. But now… he felt he might soon succumb to their persistent _caring_ , and it frightened him.

He had to get out of there before he passed the point of no return.


	27. Chapter 27

“These bones be a pain in the arse to work with,” Iron-Tail grumbled as he attempted to smith a dagger out of the dragon bones they’d brought down. Daggers were simple enough, and would be good practice while he got a feel for the material. He’d wound up with something… rather crude and simplistic in design. Nowhere near as elegant as glass or ebony. He _loved_ working with ebony, when he could get his hands on a few ingots.

“That blade looks wicked sharp though,” Kitty complimented, picking up the first one he’d finished and checking it over. She had to agree, it wasn’t the prettiest design ever, but the weapon was solid. “I bet that’ll go a _long_ time without needing to be sharpened again.” She traced her fingers lovingly over the Master Builder symbol he’d inscribed into its hilt, then offered it to the Knight for inspection. It was no secret that he wasn’t a Master Builder like them, or even that much of a smith, but he still seemed to have an eye for good weapons.

 _‘Excellent work as always, my friend,’_ he said. _‘Do you have plans for the rest of it?’_

“Aye,” Iron-Tail murmured. “Lucy’s been sayin’ she wants a new bow, she still be usin’ that stick she pilfered off a Legionnaire years ago.” Kitty snickered at that. “And maybe a new pair of swords, them steel ones she carries be about done for. And some armor for the lad.” He shrugged. “Then whatever anyone else requests til it’s gone.”

_‘Fair enough. Mind if I keep this one?’_

“Aye, ‘tis yours, if ye like. I’ve no use for it.”

_‘Thank you.’_

The Knight wandered his way out of the forge. The heat suited his Argonian and Khajiit friends well enough, but under all that armor, it was unpleasant for him to stick around for long. He continued to play with the dagger as he made his way through the base, checking on his people and showing off Iron-Tail’s craftsmanship, and paused when he heard Sirius and Jenny arguing in the hallway. It sounded bad. He winced as Sirius snapped at her; perhaps they had overstepped. He carefully tucked the dagger into his belt before approaching them. Neither one seemed to notice him at first, until Sirius turned to storm away from his escort, nearly running into the Knight. He caught the Ambassador by his shoulders before they could collide, steadying him. “And what do _you_ want?”

_‘Is everything alright?’_

He gave a derisive laugh. “You’re really asking me that? You dragged me away from my home, kept me drugged the entire trip here, kept me confined to your secret base this whole time so I haven’t even seen the sun, you’ve tried to convince me that everything I’ve ever known is _wrong_ , and now you’re trying to control my diet, all ‘for my own good’! The hells do _you_ think?! How is any of this supposed to convince me you’re _better_ when I can’t even make my own choices?!”

The Knight stared at him as he trembled with the force of his fury. _‘You’re right,’_ he admitted. _‘This hasn’t been very fair of us. Walk with me?’_

“Where are we going?” Sirius asked, tone full of suspicion.

_‘To see the sun.’_

“Sir, are you sure that’s wise?” Jenny asked.

 _‘It’ll be fine.’_ Sirius frowned at him, still suspicious, but kept pace as they walked through the tunnels. He tried to keep track of where they were going, but the Knight took him to a completely new section of the tunnels, making so many twists and turns that he soon got lost. He scowled at the Knight’s back. He was doing it on purpose, he was certain, to keep him from finding his way out this way on his own. They came across another escape route, and after a surprisingly short climb, found themselves outside. Sirius winced; even though the sky was overcast, compared to the constant dimness of the caverns, it was almost blindingly bright. Slowly his eyes adjusted, though, and he took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air. He could smell the sea.

There was snow on the ground, and the wind was blowing- not harsh enough to knock him over, but no gentle breeze, either. He turned, eyes widening as he saw the tall stone walls of a city behind them.

Windhelm. They were in _Windhelm_. Or right outside of it, anyway, but still. Why would the Knight risk revealing that to him? Especially when he’d admitted they had nowhere else to hide. “What are you playing at?”

_‘Not a ploy. A peace offering.’_

“You seriously just revealed the location of your base just to _make peace_ with me.”

_‘I brought you outside as you requested to make peace with you. That it revealed our location is just an unfortunate side-effect.’_

Sirius shivered and rubbed his arms. “I don’t get you.”

_‘Do you want to go back in?’_

“Are you kidding? We’ve barely been out here five minutes!”

 _‘Come on then, there’s less wind this way.’_ Sirius followed him around the outside of the city, his shivering slowing as they put the city between them and the biting wind. _‘I also wanted to apologize. If I had known it would wind up causing such serious problems for you, I wouldn’t have challenged you.’_

“…You didn’t know,” Sirius allowed, feeling his ire starting to ebb. He sighed softly as the clouds broke, allowing the sun to peek through for a few minutes, and gratefully soaked up its warmth.

_‘No, but I still could have found some other way to ease your boredom. I’ve been fighting for far too long if that’s my first response to needing something to do, anymore.’_

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me?”

_‘Is it working?’_

“No,” he laughed. “Nice try, though.”

_‘Darn.’_

They fell into silence after that- oddly comfortable silence, Sirius noted. He wondered what it was about the Knight that made him relax, that made him laugh. Very few others had ever managed that on such a frequent basis. He didn’t even need a whole hand to count them. But something about the Knight’s demeanor just made everything feel… easy. Maybe that was why the rebels were so drawn to him.

Sirius was certain that, in another life, they could have been very good friends.

_‘Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’_

He thought about it for a moment. “Alright,” he agreed.

 _‘You mentioned something about a glamour, then went off on Jenny about never being the right weight.’_ He winced at it being put that way. _‘Those are the only two things I know of, but I imagine that’s not all you do to try to fit in. If the Thalmor are really so good to you, why do you feel the need to hide yourself?’_

“This again,” Sirius grumbled, rolling his eyes. “You know, Watevra and Benny already lectured me about this-”

_‘I’m not telling you why. I’m asking you. I want to hear your answer, not theirs. I want to understand.’_

That gave him pause. He had to think about it for a bit, it had been so long since he really considered the matter.

And then he remembered _why_ it had been so long.

_“Ha, look at you, fatty! Why don’t you get in the pig pen with the other fat pigs?”_

_“Eww he’s so hairy! You sure he’s not half Khajiit?”_

_“Gosh your eyes look funny. Can you actually see right?”_

_“Ugh, those curls are a disaster. If you don’t do something to straighten them out, I’m going to have to cut it all off.”_

He took in a shuddering breath. “Because it’s easier that way,” he mumbled. He’d always just chalked it up to kids being cruel- he hadn’t been their only victim after all- but the more he remembered, the more he realized the adults had made just as many snide remarks, just in a less obvious manner. He jolted when a hand touched his shoulder, and tears he hadn’t even realized were there lost their precarious perch, spilling down his cheeks. More tears came unbidden, and he angrily swiped at his eyes. “You must think me pathetic, now. Standing out here in the cold crying like a baby, with only my worst enemy for company…” He only just barely managed to stifle a sob, it coming out as a sharp intake of breath, and forced his breathing to even out again, trying to clear his head and get himself back under control. The Knight only watched him, keeping a respectful distance. He was grateful for that.

_‘It’s not pathetic to feel, whatever the Thalmor might tell you. And it seems you’ve been bottling that up for a long time. Do you feel better now?’_

“…I do, actually,” Sirius sighed. “I always thought it was so _dumb_ , watching grown humans cry like children. But I think I get it now. There’s something… _releasing_ , about it. Like a weight’s been lifted off of me. Although my head kind of hurts now.”

The Knight huffed in amusement. _‘Yeah, that happens. Some water should fix that right up though. If you’re ready to head back in?’_

“Still not going to let me go?”

_‘Not until I’m certain you’re in shape for the trek back to Solitude.’_

“…Fair enough. Alright, back into the deep dank caves we go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize that things have gotten a little sidetracked lately. Busy apparently decided, in true Busy fashion, to hijack the story and make it all about him for a bit there. (I guess that's the sort of thing that happens when you're flying by the seat of your pants, lol.) It'll get back on track soon.


	28. Chapter 28

As soon as he was certain he hadn’t been seen, he hopped onto his horse and rode hard for Solitude. He had stopped in Windhelm for a while on his trek back to Riften, in no particular hurry to get back to his home city, and was glad he had. It had given him just the lucky break he’d been looking for.

He’d always had a hunch the rebels were based there, and now he had proof. For the Black Knight himself to appear out of nowhere, in such quick response to that dragon? The Thalmor would definitely want to have that information. And maybe this time they would actually pay him the full amount they’d promised.

~* *~

Sirius squinted as they were engulfed by darkness, the sparsely-placed torches not enough to see by after having spent some time in daylight. He growled his annoyance and cast a candlelight spell to better light the way. He followed the Knight in silence as they made their way back to the populated part of the base, wondering why there were tunnels so far out of the way. Another escape route that would take them directly out of the city, sure, but it looked like they had started to set it up to house more people, at one point. Likely at the height of the rebellion, when they still had a literal army. He almost wanted to ask, but decided against it. There was no telling the limit of the Knight’s geniality.

He raised an eyebrow when muffled snickering floated toward them, and found himself rooted to the spot when he spotted Ken pressing Lenny to the wall, hands roaming the other man’s body, lips pressed to his throat. They paused, looking over when they realized they had an audience. The Knight seemed completely unfazed, continuing down the hall without even sparing them a glance. Ken scowled at Sirius before pulling Lenny through a nearby door. Sirius jolted out of his stupor, and hurried to catch up to the Knight. “’Best friends’, huh?” he asked, glaring at him.

 _‘Special best friends,’_ the Knight joked. _‘Problem?’_

He vaguely recalled a comment Jenny had made, about people ‘being outcast for other reasons’. Had she meant those two? Was _that_ the ‘other reasons’ she’d been referring to?

The Knight paused, staring at him expectantly when he failed to answer, or keep up. _‘It is, isn’t it.’_

“It’s another one of those things I’ve always been taught must be a certain way,” Sirius sighed. “Such… intimacy should only be for producing children, and only with the partner that has been chosen for you.”

_‘And yet, here you are.’_

“Yes,” he murmured softly. “Here I am. I… suppose there’s no _harm_ in it, after all. They seem happy enough.”

_‘How did you come to be with the Thalmor, anyway? Was that a decision you made?’_

“I was told my mother died giving birth to me, but before she passed she insisted I be sent to live with my father rather than be placed in an orphanage. I guess as a final… ‘fuck you’, or- something.” The Knight trembled, and Sirius realized he was _laughing_. “Father did eventually tell me a little bit about her, one night after having too much drink. Said she’d been his most difficult conquest ever.” He fell silent for a moment. “Said I looked just like her. I used to dream that I’d had the chance to know her. Father’s wife wanted nothing to do with me, so my childish imaginings were all I ever had for a mother figure.”

_‘So your father was married, and still chased tail. With another species, even.’_

Sirius shrugged. “I only ever saw them together a handful of times, before he died. It was a screaming match every time. From what I’d gathered, they couldn’t stand each other all that much before me, either. As far as I know, I’m his only child. He certainly never had any with _her_.”

_‘And that’s why he kept you?’_

“I can only assume. I guess he figured having a bastard half-blood was better than no children at all.” He rolled his eyes. “Or I was a social experiment. I wouldn’t put it past him.” He tilted his head. “ _Why_ am I telling you all this?”

_‘You tell me.’_

Sirius frowned at him, mulling that over. “Because it’s easier to talk to someone that doesn’t have a face, I suppose.” That earned him a snort as the Knight tried to hold back his laughter.

 _‘Didn’t think you had a sense of humor,’_ he signed, and Sirius smirked at him.

“I suppose it’s about time I returned the favor. Now I believe you promised me a glass of water? I’m parched.”

 _‘Demanding, aren’t you?’_ the Knight teased, straightening up again as his silent giggles subsided. _‘Is ‘please’ not in the Thalmor vocabulary?’_

Sirius sniffed indignantly. “It’s beneath us.”

_‘Divines grant me patience. Come on, you brat.’_

They hadn’t made it much farther before they ran into Emmet, the young man panting harshly and soaked through with sweat. “Sirius!” he greeted, smiling widely, then just looked confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I got spirited away, as it were,” he said, casting the Knight a sidelong glance. “Rather like you did.”

“Oh.” He frowned slightly at that. “But you’re okay?”

“…I’m adjusting. Who put you through the ringer?”

“Lucy’s been teaching me some self-defense stuff. It’s _hard_.”

Silently, Sirius approved. “I’m sure you’ll get it.” The Knight gave him a thumbs-up and a nod of agreement, and Emmet smiled.

“Thanks, guys. I’m trying my best. I, um. I think I’m going to go get cleaned up now.”

“Yes, _please_. I can smell you from here.” Sirius wrinkled his nose for emphasis. Emmet gave them a sheepish grin and continued on his way. Sirius glanced up at the Knight. “You actually convinced him to learn how to fight?”

_‘Not how to fight. How to escape if a fight should be inevitable. Though I think Lucy was more frightened by what happened in Solitude than he was.’_

“That so?” he mused. “How cute.”


	29. Chapter 29

Everyone had remained gathered around the table after lunch- even Sirius, much to the rebels’ chagrin. Vitruvius had merely waved off their concern. “The dragons are _everyone’s_ problem, not just the Master Builders’. He has as much right to be here as anyone else.”

They had exhausted the old wizard’s personal knowledge of the dragons without really getting any further in figuring out how to defeat Alduin, but he had one last resource to offer. He set his well-worn leatherbound journal on the table, flipping it open. “I wasn’t idle, all my years in hiding. The day the Blades had to run, there was so little I could save of our library, but I wrote down everything I could remember. And one of those things was a short passage about Sky Haven Temple. I had long thought of searching for it, but until then, it was merely a daydream. We were kept busy enough as it was. But then we all scattered, and I figured, if I could find it, it would be the best location to evade the Thalmor. It took me a long time to get my hands on all the titles that mentioned the Temple- I had thought to write those down, at least. And so I narrowed it down to Skyrim, then narrowed it down further to the Reach. Eventually I managed to find it, but alas, could not gain entry. The ancient Dragonguard- the predecessors of the Blades- had set a lock so that only a Dragonborn could open the door.”

“What’s so important about Sky Haven Temple?” Mayhem asked.

“It’s where the Akaviri built Alduin’s Wall, to set down in stone all their accumulated dragon lore; a hedge against the forgetfulness of centuries. Despite the far-reaching fame of Alduin’s Wall at the time- one of the wonders of the ancient world- its location was lost. Conquest after conquest of Tamriel had destroyed most of what the Akaviri had left behind for future Blades to find, until only scraps of clues remained.”

“What’s Alduin’s Wall?”

“It was where the Dragonguard recorded all they knew of Alduin. Part history, part prophecy. As such, it may tell us how we can defeat him.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time!” Lucy said. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready to start being more proactive about these dragons. We should take a team to Sky Haven Temple and see what Alduin’s Wall has to tell us.”

 _‘I agree,’_ the Knight signed. _‘Mayhem, I’m putting you in charge. I’ll let you pick your team, and you can leave as soon as you’re ready.’_

“Yes, sir!” Mayhem said, and saluted. “Lucy, I know you’re coming with me for sure, but do I have any other volunteers?”

“Ooh me!” Kitty squealed, bouncing in her seat and waving her hand in the air.

“Count me in too,” Bruce added.

“Aye, and me, lass. I’ve had enough of sittin’ about.” Mayhem cast one last glance around the table, then nodded.

“Alright, that’s seven of us, then. Gear up, I want to be out within the hour.”

~* *~

“I have a surprise for you,” Lucy said as they left the dining hall, and dragged Emmet to the forge.

“A surprise??” Emmet gasped, letting her pull him along without protest. No one had ever given him a _surprise_ before. “What is it??”

Lucy laughed. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you what it was.” She stopped right outside the door. “Close your eyes!” He did as instructed, letting her lead him inside.

“It’s hot…”

“It’s the forge. Okay, go ahead and look.”

He opened his eyes to find himself staring at a mannequin. “A suit of armor??” Lucy grinned as he reached out to touch it. It was like no armor he’d ever seen before, crafted out of the dragon bones they had salvaged but lacking the rough simplicity of the weapons Iron-Tail had smithed with the bones beforehand. Its design was something of a cross between typical glass and ebony armors, with the Argonian’s own personal twist to it. The end result was _beautiful_ , and he said so. Lucy smiled.

“Bruce and I actually helped him, a bit. Turns out dragon bone is resistant even to our ability to manipulate materials, but Iron-Tail wasn’t going to rest until he had something ‘fit for a Dragonborn’ that _wasn’t_ crude and scary. He didn’t think you’d appreciate the intimidation factor. And it’s as lightweight as we could make it without sacrificing the protection it offers, so it won’t weigh you down too much. And then Kitty enchanted it to help protect you against any magical hurts.”

“Help me put it on??” he asked excitedly, and she grinned.

“Sure. Not in here though, it’s too hot, let’s take it out to the hall.” She laughed when he grabbed the entire mannequin and dragged it out into the hall, retrieving her new weapons before following him. They got him into the armor in relatively short order, and Lucy took a step back to get a good look at him. She gave him a fond smile. “It suits you.”

“Really?” He grinned broadly at her.

“Mhmm.”

He hugged her tightly. “Thank you!” She laughed, patting his back.

“Just make sure you thank Bruce and Iron-Tail and Kitty too.”

“Oh I will. This is _amazing!_ ”

~* *~

Sirius grumbled to himself as he watched the team go. He would have given _anything_ to see Alduin’s Wall for himself, if only for its historical significance. He remained seated even as the others slowly left, only Alfred staying behind to keep an eye on him while giving him some space.

“Aww is somebody pouting?” He scowled at the upside-down brown eyes that met his gaze, sparkling all too merrily for his liking.

“Get down, you weirdo.”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Benny snickered, but righted himself and settled down on the bench across from him. “Seriously though, what’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“They’re going to Alduin’s Wall and I’m _stuck_ here.”

“Ooh, ouch,” Benny repeated, more seriously this time. “That really is a bummer. But hey, play nice and maybe they’ll let you out on good behavior.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Doubtful.”

“You have pessimism down to a fine art, my friend.”

“Why are you here, anyway? What about a human civil war could _possibly_ interest a Daedra?”

“Well, Temu’s kind of a buddy of mine, you know? And he’s been throwing a bit of a fit about the way your people are treating his precious grandbabies.” Sirius fell utterly still at that, staring. “And since he and his sparkly pals can’t really interfere with what goes on down here, other than to send you guys a new Dragonborn to try to stop Alduin and his nonsense, he asked if I’d mind giving them a hand. Since, you know. Daedra _can_.”

“That’s… that’s _impossible_ ,” Sirius protested once he found his voice again. “Temu was _human_ , not Aedra! There’s no way he could have ascended! He _died_ , and that’s that.”

Benny grinned at him. “You really wanna argue with a Daedric Prince? You know what I think you have against him? You’re all just sore that it was a _human_ chosen for Divinity rather than one of your own kind. Never mind that, you know, the other eight Divines _are_ your ancestors, anyway. Heaven forbid that _Men_ should ever be considered your equals.”

Sirius quietly laid his head down on the table, too stunned to really process that revelation just yet. Benny chirped on merrily, unheeding of his current existential crisis.

“Anyway I dropped by to let you guys know you’re sadly going to be deprived of my wonderful company for the foreseeable future, I’ve got something of a mission of my own to accomplish.”

“And what’s that?” he asked numbly.

“I’ve got a Mora to pester, he’s got some shenanigans to answer for.”

“Oh. Have fun.”

Benny bounced. “Oh, I’m sure I will.” He disappeared with a slight _pop!_ , leaving Sirius alone with his thoughts.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such smart and wonderful readers, I love you guys. :D

Just as they were ready to head out, they were stopped by Alfred. “What is it?” Mayhem asked.

“This just arrived by courier a few minutes ago. He said it was for me, but I believe it’s meant for the Dragonborn.” He handed over a piece of paper.

Emmet tried to get a peek at it. “What’s it say?” Mayhem read it out loud.

“ _Dovahkiin_ , you caused quite a bit of a stir in Solitude when you demonstrated the power of your Thu’um. Not everyone is anxious for the return of the Dragonborn. I for one desire to see you grow and develop your talents. Skyrim needs a true hero these days. You should turn your attention to Eldersblood Peak. I understand it holds a mysterious source of power that can only be unlocked by the Dragonborn. Sincerely, a friend.”

“Well that’s kind of creepy,” Lucy remarked. “The courier didn’t say who sent it?”

“I’m afraid not, only that he insisted he was ‘a friend’.”

“Well, it’s along our way if you want to check it out,” Mayhem offered. “It almost sounds like it’s hinting at the location of another Shout, like the one you learned in Bleak Falls Barrow.”

“Oh. Uh, well, I suppose it can’t hurt to go have a look, at least…”

Mayhem gave him a smile. “Then we’re heading to Eldersblood Peak first. Thanks, Alfred.”

“Good luck.”

~* *~

It was nearing the end of the third day before they finally reached the peak. Just as they’d suspected, there was a Word Wall there- with a dragon snoozing on top of it. Mayhem gestured for everyone to stop. It hadn’t detected them yet. _‘Maybe we can take it by surprise,’_ she signed to the others. _‘Lucy, give me your bow.’_

Lucy nodded and handed it and an arrow over to her. Her new dragonbone bow had proven to be _almost_ as powerful as Mayhem’s crossbow, and was a lot quieter to use. Emmet held his breath as Mayhem drew back the string and nocked the arrow, also made of dragonbone, and released. It struck true, plunging through the softer scales at its breast, and the beast shrieked and thrashed in surprise, falling off its perch and hitting the ground hard enough that the tremors nearly knocked them off their feet. It raged in its own tongue, whipping around to turn its furious glare onto them. Mayhem handed Lucy back her bow and quickly drew her own.

“You!” the dragon shrieked as it stalked toward them, snarling in pain as the barbed arrowhead dug its way deeper. “You dare use the bones of my own kind against me?!”

“To the Wall, Emmet!” Lucy shouted, giving him a nudge in its direction. “We’ll keep it distracted!” He nodded and started running as the others drew their weapons or readied their magic.

“Well it sure seems to be effective!” Bruce shot back. Emmet tuned them out after that, focusing on the words carved into the wall.

 

_Noble Nords remember these words of the hoar father: the best weapon of Skyrim is the mind of a steel-souled warrior._

 

“Weapon,” Emmet murmured, tracing his fingers over the glowing word. “What kind of Shout is _this_ …?” He glanced back as he heard a sharp crack, and winced as he saw Iron-Tail’s warhammer planted in the dragon’s skull. Lovely.

“It’s the first word of the Disarm Shout.”

Emmet whirled back around at the sound of the voice, spotting Rex’s ghostly form as he inspected the Wall. Rex turned to smirk at him. “I think I’ll let you have this one, kid. You could use it.” He disappeared after that.

“Thanks…?” Emmet said to thin air, then walked back to join his friends. He gasped as the dragon’s power flowed into him, and shuddered, understanding of the new word clicking into place. He wondered if he would ever get used to that.

“So?” Bruce asked him.

“It was the first word of the Disarm Shout,” he told them, and managed a smile. “At least now I don’t have to go throwing people to stop them, anymore.” Lucy took his hand, squeezing it.

“That is a good thing,” she told him. “I’m surprised your friend Rex didn’t decide to join us.”

“Oh, no, he was here, he just decided to let me have this one?”

“Oh. Well that was… nice of him. I mean you can’t really _learn_ a new word without a dragon soul, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Come on, we can make camp in Cold Rock Pass for the night, and take the shortcut through it in the morning. Karthspire’s only another day and a half west of here,” Mayhem said, looking to Vitruvius for confirmation. He nodded.

“Sounds about right.”

~* *~

He rode right up to the Embassy’s gates and dismounted. The guard at the gate only rolled his eyes before waving him in. “You know where to go.” With a nod, he hurried inside, heading straight for the solar. However, upon entering the office, he did not see Rulindil, or even Sirius. The Altmer sitting at the desk narrowed his eyes at him.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I- what happened to the Emissaries?” He was met only with stony silence. He swallowed hard, figuring perhaps he should answer the Thalmor’s questions first. “I’m Gissur. I am- was…?- an informant for Ambassador Rulindil. I have information on the rebels’ whereabouts.”

“I see.” The elf nodded. “I regret to inform you that Rulindil has been slain, and Sirius taken, both by the rebels. I am Ondolemar, Head Justiciar. For now, at least, you may consider me the acting First Emissary. Now.” He leaned forward. “You _will_ tell me what you have found, and then you will leave. Depending on how useful the information you have for me is, I _may_ be willing to uphold whatever arrangements you had with Rulindil.”

Gissur could only stare in disbelief. May? _May??_ That was just his luck. But it wasn’t like he had anything to lose, anyway… “…There was a dragon, in Windhelm. I saw several of the rebel officers charge up from the docks to deal with it, and then the Black Knight appeared out of nowhere to help them. For him to have responded so quickly, they have to be based in Windhelm, somewhere. And I think they have Vitruvius with them. I recognized the old man from Riften, anyway, always thought he was just another beggar…”

Ondolemar fixed him with an unreadable stare. Gissur had to bite his tongue to keep from rambling. As much as he disliked Rulindil and Sirius, they didn’t make his skin crawl the way Ondolemar currently was. The Head Justiciar finally rose from his seat and approached him. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. You did well to come straight here.”

“And- and the matter of my payment?”

“Not to worry, you have more than earned what you were promised. Come, I will see to it personally that you are paid what you’re owed.” Gissur relaxed, allowing himself to be escorted out of the office. He stepped several paces back into the foyer, and paused when he heard a familiar sliding sound that he couldn’t place.

“What-” he said, starting to turn, and his world exploded into pain.

And then- nothing.

Ondolemar stared dispassionately down at the body bleeding out all over the tiled floor, then wiped the blood off his sword before sliding it back into its sheath. He turned his gaze to the guard. “See that this mess is cleaned up, I have an urgent matter to attend to.”

“Yes, sir.”


	31. Chapter 31

Reaching Sky Haven Temple was a challenge. There was a Forsworn encampment at its base, and though Emmet tried his best to negotiate peaceful passage, they were not the least bit inclined to pay him any heed- he was a _Nord_ , and that was all that mattered to them. His friends, at least, did their very best to cause as little damage as possible as they fought their way to the tunnels that would lead to the Temple. He heaved a sigh of relief once the Forsworn decided to stop pursuing them.

“They won’t give away that we’re here, will they?” Lucy asked, biting her lip. Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Not likely. Forsworn on the whole are a couple coins short of a pint of ale, if you catch my drift. Besides, they hate _everyone_ that’s not Breton- they won’t have any reason to approach the Thalmor or the Legion.”

Next they were faced with puzzles, which Emmet much preferred. They were simple enough to solve, once Vitruvius explained the symbols, but imbued with magic so that only he could actually solve them. The first was a trio of pillars that required being turned to the ancient Akaviri symbol for Dragonborn; the second was a grid of pressure plates, also with Akaviri symbols. Stepping on the wrong plates would trigger booby traps, but he made it across and disarmed them with ease as well. It was the third that gave him pause.

“It’s a blood seal,” Vitruvius explained as he examined the strange series of rings laid into the floor. “As the name suggests, it can only be broken by blood.” He turned to Emmet. “ _Your_ blood, as it were.” Emmet whined at that, edging away from the thing. Iron-Tail gently squeezed his shoulder.

“It be the only way, lad.”

“Don’t worry Emmet, I can heal you right up after!” Kitty chirped.

“Okay,” he pouted. He took a deep breath and stepped into the center of the rings, accepting Bruce’s dagger and peeling off a glove. He knelt there with the blade pressed against his skin for several moments before finally shouting, “I can’t do it!”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Oh for crying out loud-”

“Let me help,” Lucy offered, kneeling down next to him and taking the dagger. He bit his lip hard and turned away, squeezing his eyes shut as he held his hand out to her.

“ _Oh!_ ” he gasped as the blade bit into his skin (with less pain than he’d been expecting, it was so sharp). Lucy held his wrist firmly so he couldn’t pull away, letting several drops of his blood drip onto the center stone before nodding to Kitty. She helped him up as the seal began to glow and stepped away as the rings rotated to unlock the door, and Kitty pressed her palm over his. He sighed in relief as the healing spell closed the cut.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she teased. He pouted back at her.

“Easy for you to say…”

The massive door finally lifted out of the way, allowing them entrance, and they hurried inside.

It was pitch-black inside. Kitty cast a candlelight spell to light the way, and they slowly made their way up the steps into the main chamber. She walked around it, casting stationary magelight spells to brighten the place up.

At the far end, behind a long stone table, was the fabled Alduin’s Wall. Vitruvius gasped, heading straight for it. There was a pair of braziers at either end that he was quick to light, to better see it by. “Would you look at that…” he murmured, staring up at it. The Wall contained no words, only carvings depicting scenes both past and future, flowing seamlessly from one to the next.

“So what does it say?” Bruce asked.

“Right, let’s see here…” He moved to the leftmost side of the wall, studying the carving in silence for a few seconds.

“Vitruvius??”

“It goes back to the beginning of time, when Alduin and the Dragon Cult ruled over Skyrim.” He slowly moved down the wall, interpreting the carvings as he went along. “Here the humans rebel against their dragon overlords- the legendary Dragon War. Alduin’s defeat is the centerpiece of the wall.” He gestured to the massive carving of the dragon writhing as he fell from the sky. “You can see him falling, here. The Nord Tongues- masters of the Voice- are arrayed against him. This here, coming from the mouths of the Nord heroes- this is the Akaviri symbol for ‘Shout’.”

“So they used a _Shout_ to defeat Alduin?” Emmet stepped closer, hesitantly reaching to touch the carving of Alduin, almost as though the dragon himself would come right out of the stone wall to snap them all up.

Vitruvius nodded. “Quite likely something specific to dragons, or even Alduin himself.”

“Does it say what the Shout is?”

“Unfortunately, no. It seems the Akaviri overlooked the recording of the actual words of power that were used. Look here, in the third panel- the prophecy which brought the Akaviri to Tamriel in the first place, in search of the Dragonborn. Here are the Akaviri- you see their distinctive longswords? Now they kneel, their ancient mission fulfilled, as the Last Dragonborn contends with Alduin at the end of time.”

“What’s the prophecy?”

Vitruvius turned to them, not even needing to look at the Wall to recite it.

“When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world;  
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped;  
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles;  
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls;  
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding;  
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.”

“Let me guess; ‘misrule’ is speaking of the Thalmor, right?” Lucy guessed.

“It’s actually a reference to the shattering of the Staff of Chaos,” Vitruvius corrected her. “The second lines speaks of the activation of the Numidium, a massive brass golem built by the Dwemer and said to be a thousand feet tall, and the strange events that occurred that forced time itself to be rearranged. The third speaks of when the three Dunmer gods lost their immortality and the Red Mountain erupted and destroyed most of Morrowind. The fourth, of course, is the Oblivion Crisis, when the Septim line ended, and the capture of the White-Gold Tower during the Great War. And the last speaks of recent events in Skyrim itself- we are without a High King, and at war with ourselves.”

It was uncomfortably quiet in the main chamber. Kitty’s magelights had since expired, leaving only the light of the braziers to see by.

“So how do we be figurin’ out this Shout they used?” Iron-Tail spoke up, finally breaking the silence.

“Maybe the Greybeards would know?” Emmet suggested. “I can ask them.”

Lucy nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

“And the rest of us should return to base,” Mayhem said. “This is a highly defensible location, the Knight will definitely want to know about it. We’ve been in Windhelm for too long as it is- no offense, Bruce.”

“None taken, and I agree. With our current situation, the longer we stay there, the higher the risk of being discovered. Let’s give this place a once-over first, see what it has to offer. I may stay behind to improve accommodations.”

“Alright,” Mayhem agreed. “Lucy, Emmet- good luck.”


	32. Chapter 32

“Honey, I’m home!” Benny sang out as he stepped into Apocrypha, then pulled a face. “Ugh. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that reading in such poor light will ruin your eyes? And you’ve got way too many of them to be worrying about that.” No answer. He shrugged; typical Mora. Probably absorbed in one of his books again. He started walking. Hermaeus Mora would turn up eventually, there was no way he wouldn’t sense Benny’s presence.

He frowned when he found himself right back where he started. Well, no matter, it was easy to get lost and turned around in this place. He just kept walking, taking a different path this time. An hour later, and he found himself at the start again. “ _Wow_. Didn’t think you were the sort for practical jokes.”

“I thought it was funny,” purred a slow, soothing voice. “What brings you to my realm?”

Benny clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels, before pushing off the ground to float several feet above it. “My new buddy Emmet seems to have a parasite. Not sure I’m okay with this.”

“And why should this concern me, I wonder?”

“Because said parasite is your pet Dragonborn. What are you up to, Mora?”

“You really think I would give my secrets away so easily? You didn’t even say ‘please’.”

“Please?” Benny tacked on, and batted his lashes for good measure. Mora chuckled.

“You know well enough I am immune to _human_ charms, She-”

“ _Not unless you want your precious books to serve as collateral_ ,” Benny hissed, his grin becoming forced.

“Duly noted. _Benny_ ,” he sneered in response. “How you cling to your past. I wonder, how tenuous is your hold on your sanity today, _Benny?_ ”

“Hey- I’m not here about _me_ -”

“Still have that obsessive affinity for airships, _Benny?_ ”

“I’m warning you-” He reflexively brandished the Wabbajack, but to his credit, Mora didn’t even flinch.

“Spent your whole life trying to find the Dwemers’ plans for one, didn’t you? Shame you never checked Solstheim, there’s one that’s been just lying there for _centuries_. The snow and ice finally thawed enough to uncover it again.”

“I- …There is?” He shook his head. “No! I know what you’re trying to do-”

“You should go check it out before those awful little rieklings get their grubby hands on it and destroy it the rest of the way.”

“Unacceptable!” Benny gasped. “Where is it?!”

“Moesring Pass,” Mora answered, no longer interested in their conversation. “Better hurry, Princeling.”

~* *~

It was a peaceful day, and shaping up to be quite a boring one, at that. Not that every other day since the Dragonborn and his team had left wasn’t, to be quite honest. He still had Jenny and Watevra and the Knight to talk to, at least (and he and Lenny attempted to, but ever since their encounter in the hall, their interactions had been nothing short of awkward. Ken was avoiding him altogether now). Lloyd seemed to have warmed up to him somewhat as well, spending a little more time around him and occasionally asking questions.

He’d picked up on some interesting details about his companions in the past week. Jenny was a master alchemist, it turned out, who had discovered a method of making a very potent concentrated healing potion. Back when they actually had an army, she would just give a supply of it to the healers out in the field, but these days, she made sure everyone currently on duty had a canister with them.

Watevra had no memory of her life before she was found by the Knight, back during the start of the rebellion. They’d been fast friends ever since, tenaciously guarding each other’s secrets- Sirius had marked her as possibly being the one person in the rebellion that knew his identity. He wondered what secrets she might have, she seemed to be such an open book. Although she had used an entirely wrong word, one day. Alfred had calmly and quietly corrected her, a manner that spoke of having to do it many times in the past. She, however, had seemed annoyed and embarrassed as she huffed out “ugh, I thought I was over that!”

Penn was a scary, scary lady when she wanted to be. She was easily as old as Sirius himself, possibly even older, and had a lifetime of sabotage and espionage under her belt. Little wonder she was Bruce’s right-hand lady, and so high up in the ranks of the rebellion overall. He wondered how much of the Thalmor’s failures were thanks to her. She was no slouch with a blade, either. He’d caught her carving up a wood dummy with one of Iron-Tail’s dragonbone daggers, and decided she was not someone he ever wanted to come across in a dark alley.

The Knight had a frankly _ridiculous_ sense of humor that never seemed to run short, and a penchant for sass that so far only Benny seemed to rival (he didn’t know the Mad God well enough to say for certain just yet). Sirius didn’t know exactly _how_ he did it, but the Knight always seemed to know just what to say to soothe Sirius’ frazzled nerves, or defuse a tense situation. And they could talk politics _all day_ , he found. It was… interesting, to have someone to debate with. The Knight would always say something that challenged his views, made him _think_. He hoped he did the same to the Knight, it wouldn’t be very fair otherwise. But the man obviously had a keen intellect, smart enough to be such a thorn in Sirius’ side for so long.

He was jolted from his musings by the sight of _Alfred_ sprinting through the base like a pack of death hounds were on his heels. Jenny perked up as well, sharing a worried glance with him. It wasn’t like the housecarl to be in such a state of panic. They hurried after him, eager to find out what was going on.

“The Imperial Army is in the city, along with the Thalmor. They know we’re here,” he panted out once he found Penn and the Knight. Penn wasted no time in grabbing all the sensitive intel she could find.

 _‘Get everyone out of here,’_ the Knight instructed. _‘Essentials only, we have no time for personal effects.’_

“Yes, sir.” Jenny left quite abruptly as well, helping him to spread the word. A crash echoed through the caverns- the Legion had found the main entrance. Sirius stared as the Knight pulled his own dragonbone dagger from its sheath on his belt, handing it over.

“What?”

_‘I have no doubts the Legion will not harm you, but I would be wary of any Thalmor that find you first.’_

“Wait, you’re-” He struggled to decide which question to get out first. “You’re trusting me with a weapon? You’re _letting me go??_ ”

 _‘I have faith in you.’_ And just like that, he and Penn were gone, leaving a very bewildered Ambassador in their wake. It was barely a minute later that the General discovered him.

“Sir,” the General sighed in something that sounded like- relief?? How odd. “You’re looking well.”

“I haven’t been harmed, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sirius snorted in response, tucking the dagger away. “It’s about time you showed up. These people have been watching me like vultures.”


	33. Chapter 33

The Legion had swarmed the city and their base, but the Thalmor had spread out outside Windhelm’s walls to catch anyone who managed to escape. The Knight slid to a halt as he emerged into the woods to see what seemed like the entirety of the Thalmor forces in Skyrim waiting for them, the others piling up behind him. Someone cursed quietly. Someone else sobbed.

“Oh Divines, where’s Benny when you _need_ him…?”

Unseen behind the faceplate of his helmet, the Knight narrowed his eyes as he spotted the Head Justiciar among the Thalmors’ numbers. Of course _he’d_ be there.

“Surrender now, and we may give you a quick, merciful death,” Ondolemar announced. As he spoke, his archers drew back their bowstrings, arrows aimed and ready to fire. “And you. Don’t you think it’s about time you showed everyone who you are?”

The Knight relaxed his stance, tilting his head at the Head Justiciar _. ‘You know, I think you’re right. It’s about time I reminded you of who I am.’_ Ondolemar stared at him, confused, when he drew in a deep breath.

And with a voice rough and cracked from years of disuse, he Shouted.

_“Strun Bah Qo!”_

Immediately the skies overhead darkened. Rain began to fall, and thunder rumbled so loudly, they could feel it in their very bones. And the Thalmor, with their metal armor, were prime targets for lightning strikes.

 _‘Fight!’_ he gestured to the stunned remnants of the rebel army, and drew his greatsword, charging forward. It was as if a spell had broken, and as one their warriors flowed forward, weapons drawn. The mages stayed back, casting as quickly as they could manage, throwing buffs and Destruction spells or summoning atronachs to bolster their numbers. Ken nearly knocked himself out summoning a dremora lord, leaning heavily on Lenny as he panted. The summoned daedra charged toward the Thalmor, sending several running just from the sight of it.

“Don’t go fainting on me yet,” Lenny chided. “We still need your help.”

“Tryin’,” Ken murmured, and managed to push himself back onto his feet. His summoned daedra was tearing through the Thalmor ranks with ease.

Ondolemar could only stare as his troops fell under the rebels’ fury. There was only fifteen of them, it should have been _impossible_ …

_“Yol Toor Shul!”_

He glanced over at the Shout and just barely managed to scramble back in time to avoid being roasted alive. So the Black Knight could breathe fire. He knew there was only the one Dragonborn, but there had been no Tongues other than the Greybeards since the dragons disappeared.

_"Who in Oblivion are you?!”_

The Knight’s only response was to gesture rudely at him and Shout again, unleashing a cyclone on the Thalmor troops. They scattered to avoid being either ripped apart by the whirling winds, or crushed by uprooted trees. The rebels took advantage of the chaos to make their escape.

By the time the cyclone vanished and the skies cleared once more, they were nowhere to be seen.

The General made his appearance then, the Ambassador at his side, looking none the worse for wear (though perhaps a little… _rounder_ , than when he’d last seen Sirius, a fact at which he sneered). Sirius swept his gaze over the scene before them, and fixed a firm stare onto the Head Justiciar. “Tried backing them into a corner, didn’t you? I could have told you that wouldn’t work.”

“I _did_ try to tell him,” the General rumbled.

“There were _fifteen_ of them! They should have surrendered!”

“You haven’t fought the Knight since the start of the rebellion, have you? Been too busy trying to root out Temu worshipers in Markarth for the past five years. ‘Backed into a corner’ is when he’s at his most dangerous.”

Ondolemar glowered at him. “Even _you_ couldn’t have possibly guessed he’s a _Tongue_.”

Sirius stared at him. That _was_ a surprise. “He- he _Shouted?_ He _actually spoke?_ ” He was kind of sad he missed that.

“Well what else do you think could cause this mess?”

“Regardless, we have the First Emissary once more, and the rebels have no place left to run,” the General interrupted. “We’ll have them again soon.”

 _Not quite_ , Sirius thought to himself. _They’ll head for the Reach, no doubt_. But he found he couldn’t bring himself to actually _say_ it. He could tell the General _exactly_ what the rebels’ plans were, and yet…

He couldn’t stomach the thought of another Helgen. He couldn’t stomach the thought of watching a public execution after he’d learned their faces, their names, their hopes for the future.

So he kept his mouth shut, and let himself be taken to the camp where their own healers looked him over, just to be sure.

There were a lot of questions, after that. General Callaghan’s concern was both surprising and touching, but the Thalmor… Well, he supposed he couldn’t fault the foot soldiers for being curious, even if it was annoying. It was Ondolemar’s persistent harassment that nearly had him throttling the other elf every time they crossed paths. In the past, a curt word had been enough to make the Head Justiciar back off, but now he only relented for a short time before starting up again. Something about the balance of power had shifted. Either Ondolemar was letting his brief time as acting Ambassador get to his head, or…

Or the High Council had made some _decisions_ in his absence. Either option did not bode well for him. More and more often he found his fingers slipping inside the sleeve of his robe, feeling for the dagger the Knight had given him- now secured in place with a proper arm sheath he’d pilfered from Legion supplies. It was a strange comfort to know it was there.

At least the General’s behavior toward him hadn’t changed. Still as gruff but respectful as always, which was more of a comfort than he’d ever expected. He didn’t seem to care much for Ondolemar either, and curiously enough, always seemed to _loom_ whenever the Head Justiciar was anywhere near the Legate. He wondered what had happened to cause that sort of protective reaction. He never got the chance to ask, whisked away to the Embassy as soon as they returned to Solitude, but he was willing to bet Ondolemar was too comfortable with overstepping bounds with them as well.


	34. Chapter 34

Lucy had remained in Ivarstead, uncertain that she would be welcome at High Hrothgar. She was a warrior, after all, and it was a place of peace. But Emmet was much more confident this time as he climbed the Seven Thousand Steps again.

“Dragonborn, you have returned,” Arngeir greeted him as he entered the great hall, sounding somewhat surprised. “What brings you back to us?”

“I need to learn the Shout used to defeat Alduin.”

That got the Greybeards’ attention, and not in a good way. “Where did you learn that? Who have you been talking to?” Arngeir demanded, tone sharp and angry. Emmet leaned back, eyes wide.

“It was on Alduin’s Wall!”

“The Blades! Of course. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?”

Emmet shrank back from his vehemence. “Vitruvius is the only one left, and he- he just wants to see Alduin stopped! Don’t you?”

“What I want is irrelevant. This Shout was used once before, was it not? And here we are again. Have you considered that Alduin was not meant to be defeated? Those who overthrew him in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning, they did not stop it. If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it end and be reborn.”

“So you won’t help me…?”

“No. Not now. Not until you return to the path of wisdom.”

He slumped, hanging his head. “I see…” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for causing trouble, I’ll um, I’ll just go now…” He was halfway back to the doors when a powerful voice echoed through the stone halls. He was stunned into stillness, looking around wildly for the source of the voice. Had that been one of the other Greybeards? No wonder they never spoke!

_“Arngeir. Rok los Dovahkiin, Strundu’ul. Rok fen tinvaak Paarthurnax.”_

Arngeir sighed. “Dragonborn… wait,” he called, and Emmet turned and hurried back to where he could see them. “Forgive me. I was… intemperate. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment. Master Einarth reminded me of my duty. The decision whether or not to help you is not mine to make.”

“So you’ll teach me the Shout??”

“No,” Arngeir told him.

“But you just said-”

“I cannot teach it to you because I do not know it. It is called ‘Dragonrend’, but its Words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice.”

“What’s so bad about Dragonrend?”

“It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin’s Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself.”

Emmet hesitated at that, chewing on his lip. Arngeir nodded to himself, pleased to see he was giving it serious thought. “But if the Shout is lost, how else can we stop Alduin…?”

“Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question, if he so chooses.”

“May I speak to him then, please?”

Arngeir studied him for a moment. “You weren’t ready. You still aren’t ready. But… you were given this blessing for a reason, Dragonborn. Come.” Emmet followed as Arngeir led him out to the courtyard. “Paarthurnax lives in seclusion on the very peak of the mountain. Only those whose Voice is strong can find the path.” He paused at an archway at one side of the courtyard. Emmet could see powerful gales whipping up snow, not far ahead, and gave a startled look to the Greybeard. “The path to Paarthurnax is through this gate. The winds are dangerous, and the mists misleading. I will show you how to open the way. _Lok Vah Koor!_ ”

Emmet watched in amazement as the wind stopped howling. “Lok Vah Koor,” he repeated, and Arngeir nodded.

“I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies. This is your final gift from us, Dragonborn. Use it well. Clear Skies will clear the way, but only for a time. The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit.”

Emmet nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as _understanding_ filled him. He could do this. He _had_ to. With that in mind, he stepped through the gate.

~* *~

The sun was starting to set, and they were just rounding Dragonsreach, on their way back to Windhelm, when Mayhem motioned for them to stop. Kitty’s ears swiveled about, listening intently. “I hear a lot of people approaching,” she whispered, and Mayhem nodded.

“Behind those rocks over there,” she urged, and the three of them moved out of sight.

“Ye think it be Imperial soldiers?”

“It could be a caravan, but I’m not taking chances.” Kitty peeked out, her sharp eyes keeping watch for their approach. A minute later, she gasped and rushed out before either of them could grab her.

“What are you guys doing here?!” she squealed. Curious, Mayhem and Iron-Tail also poked their heads out to see who it was.

“Oh, no,” Mayhem gasped, and stepped out of their hiding spot. “What happened…?”

“The Legion,” Ken muttered bitterly. “ _And_ the Thalmor. Pretty sure they burned down the base. But holy hells, May, you should have been there, it was _amazing!_ ”

“What?”

“Turns out the Knight’s a Tongue,” Penn answered, smirking.

“No way!” Kitty squealed. “Oh, I’m so mad I missed that!”

 _‘Calm down,’_ the Knight told them. _‘It wasn’t as fun as they’re making it seem, we all would have been killed otherwise.’_

“Then you’ll be happy to know that Sky Haven Temple will suit our needs perfectly,” Mayhem told him. “Even more than four thousand years old, it’s still in amazing shape- like it was just built! Bruce stayed behind to make some changes that will accommodate us better, but it’s highly defensible. It’s high up on a peak, surrounded by a sheer drop on all sides, and we’ll be able to see anyone coming from a _long_ way off. There’s only one way to reach it, and that’s through a narrow tunnel- and anyone who tried would have to fight a camp full of Forsworn first. Which is a drawback for us as well, they’re impossible to deal with…”

_‘I’m sure we’ll manage. Lead the way.’_


	35. Chapter 35

Emmet was panting harshly by the time he made it to the peak. He hadn’t been expecting to run into any hostile creatures that far up, but he’d managed to annoy several ice wraiths on his way up, and between running from them and having to Shout the path clear numerous times and the sheer altitude, he was pretty dizzy by the time he got to the top, and gratefully collapsed into the snow, taking a few minutes just to be still and _breathe_.

His breath caught in his throat when he heard a swooshing sound that by now had become familiar, and was absolutely petrified in terror. _Oh please don’t let it see me, please don’t let it see me, PLEASE don’t let it see me…_ he begged to any deity that was listening, but his prayers went unanswered when he _felt_ as much as heard it land a short distance to his side. It chuckled, soft and not unkind. Emmet forced one eye open and turned to peek at it. It was just… sitting there, watching him.

It was enormous, and it looked _ancient_. Its scales were faded, horns and spikes broken and chipped, eyes cloudy, several teeth missing. And it seemed to be _smiling_ at him. “ _Drem Yol Lok_. Greetings, _wunduniik_. I am Paarthurnax.” Emmet finally shoved himself out of the snow, sitting up and facing the dragon. His voice was very warm and friendly, Emmet noted, very unlike every other dragon he’d encountered so far. He relaxed. “Who are you? What brings you to my _strunmah_ \- my mountain?”

“ _You’re_ the master of the Greybeards?”

“They see me as master. _Wuth_. _Onik_. Old and wise. It is true I am old…”

Emmet grinned. “But not wise?” he teased, and Paarthurnax chuckled again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be a dragon.”

“I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you, _Dovahkiin_.”

“So you already know who I am.”

“Yes. _Vahzah_. You speak true, _Dovahkiin_. Forgive me. It has been long since I held _tinvaak_ with a stranger. I gave in to the temptation to prolong our speech.”

“Why do you live up here all alone if you like conversation?”

“ _Evenaar Bahlok_. There are many hungers it is better to deny than to feed. _Dreh ni nahkip_. Discipline against the lesser aids in _qahnaar_... denial of the greater. Tell me. Why do you come here, _volaan_? Why do you intrude on my meditation?”

Emmet finally pushed himself to his feet, meeting Paarthurnax’s gaze. “I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. Can you teach it to me?”

“ _Drem_. _Patience_. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the _dov_.”

“Formalities?”

“By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my _Thu’um!_ Feel it in your bones! Match it, if you truly are _Dovahkiin! Yol Toor Shul!_ ”

Emmet gasped as the flames engulfed him, but he felt no pain, only warmth. It lingered, bringing feeling back to his fingers and toes that he hadn’t even realized he’d lost. Paarthurnax gave him a smug grin, obviously pleased with his mastery. Emmet was certainly impressed.

“A gift, _Dovahkiin_. _Yol_. Understand Fire as the _dov_ do.” Emmet nodded, and gasped as the dragon granted his understanding of the Word. It was very different from the Greybeard’s understanding, and even more different to be _given_ it rather than taking it by force through absorbing a dragon’s soul.

“I think I prefer learning new Words this way,” he admitted, earning an amused rumble.

“Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as _dovah!_ ”

“ _Yol_ ,” Emmet said, and startled as flames erupted from his mouth. Paarthurnax closed his eyes, shivering ever so slightly as Emmet’s Voice washed over him.

“ _Sossedov los mul_ ,” he murmured. “The Dragonblood runs strong in you.” He opened his eyes again, staring intently at Emmet. “And yet, it is of a very different strength than I am used to…”

“What?”

“Tell me, _Dovahkiin_. Why do you wish to learn this _Thu’um?_ ”

Emmet tried not to fidget. “Arngeir warned me of how it came about, and what it… really _means_ to learn a Shout. I’m still not sure I’m really okay with making such a thing a part of myself, but people are hurting and scared because of Alduin. A _lot_ of people. And I can’t… just… sit by and do _nothing_ …”

“Many judge strength through violence. _Dov_ , _joorre_ … In this, we are alike. But I sense your strength comes from your compassion, _Dovahkiin_. Were you anyone other than yourself, I would not grant your request.”

“So- you’ll teach it to me?”

“I do not know the _Thu’um_ you seek. _Krosis_. It cannot be known to me. Your kind- _joorre_ \- mortals- created it as a weapon against the _dov_. Our _hadrimme_ , our minds, cannot even… comprehend its concepts. But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. _Krosis_ \- apologies. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the _Monahven_ \- what you name the Throat of the World?”

“I never really thought about it,” Emmet admitted.

“This is the most sacred mountain in Skyrim. _Zok revak strunmah_. The great mountain of the world. Here the ancient Tongues, the first mortal masters of the Voice, brought Alduin to battle and defeated him.”

“Using the Dragonrend shout?”

“Yes and no. _Viik nuz ni kron_. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to... defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. _Ok mulaag unslaad_. It was the _Kel_ – the Elder Scroll. They used it to... cast him adrift on the currents of Time.”

Emmet pondered that for a while. “So they sent him forward in time?”

“Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost. _Meyye_. I knew better. _Tiid bo amativ_. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when.”

“So how does this help me?”

“ _Drem_ ,” the old dragon chuckled. “ _Tiid krent_. Time was... _shattered_ here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that _Kel_ , that Elder Scroll back here... to the _Tiid-Ahraan_ , the Time-Wound... With the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to... cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it.”

Emmet stood quietly as that sank in. “And that’s the only way to learn it? It seems… I dunno, _dangerous_.”

“It is the only way.”

“Then I guess I’m off to find the Elder Scroll,” Emmet said, and bade Paarthurnax farewell before descending back to High Hrothgar.

It didn’t occur to him until he reached the base of the mountain that he had no idea what an Elder Scroll was.


	36. Chapter 36

“Lucy, what’s an Elder Scroll?” was what Lucy was greeted with instead of the ‘hello’ she’d been expecting. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her at that, even as several of the inn’s other patrons turned in their direction at its mention.

“Not a thing to be discussed in public,” she told him, still cheerful as she linked her arm through his and pulled him back outside. It wasn’t until she’d pulled him to the edge of town that she spoke again. “Did you find the answers you were looking for? Did you learn the Shout?”

“Well, yes and no,” he said. “I found out it’s called Dragonrend, but the Greybeards couldn’t teach it to me, they don’t know it. So I need to find an Elder Scroll so I can learn it. Hey, did you know their leader is a _dragon??_ ” That earned him a stunned look.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“His name’s Paarthurnax! He’s super nice.” He turned to her, eyes almost pleading. “If one dragon can be nice, that must mean others can be too, right?”

“I…” She looked away, unable to bear that gaze for much longer. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She didn’t miss the way he sagged at that. “But I’m sure if there’s anyone that could get them to change their minds, it’s you,” she amended, and he perked up again. “So what’s this about an Elder Scroll?”

“Right! The Greybeards don’t know Dragonrend, and Paarthurnax _can’t_ know it, he said he couldn’t even ‘comprehend its concepts’, but if I find the Elder Scroll that was used to throw Alduin forward in time, maybe _I_ can go _back_ in time to learn it from the ancient Tongues-”

“Wait- _that’s_ where he came from?! So the ancient heroes, they just- decided their descendants could deal with him instead?!”

“Well, the way Paarthurnax talked about it, it sounded like they didn’t _mean_ to… I guess they were trying to throw him _outside_ of time, hoping he’d be lost forever.”

“What a mess,” Lucy sighed. “Well, for once you and I are both clueless. I’ve heard them mentioned once or twice- I know there’s more than one, and that’s about the extent of my knowledge. You didn’t think to ask Paarthurnax, or the Greybeards?”

“No,” Emmet pouted. “It didn’t occur to me to until I got back down here.”

“Right. Let’s head back to the Temple. Vitruvius might know something about them, or at least be able to point us in the right direction.”

~* *~

 _‘This place is incredible,’_ the Knight said once they’d finished a tour of the temple. _‘Bruce, excellent work on adjusting the accommodations, this will be perfect.’_

There was a _pop_ , quickly followed by a loud _CRASH!_ as… _something_ mechanical in nature was dropped onto the table in the wake of Benny’s arrival. Shouts of surprise and annoyance went up all around. “Guys you won’t _believe_ this I finally found an airship it was just lying around on Solstheim I mean it’s all in pieces but it’s _all there_ and I can fix it I mean can you _imagine_ what we could even use this for-” He fell silent in the face of more than a dozen glares cast in his direction. “Um…”

“ _That’s_ why you didn’t warn us?!” Bruce snapped.

“Bruce,” Watevra warned.

“Warn you?” Benny echoed, confused. He blinked and looked around, just realizing where they were at. “Hey, what is this place? Why are you all here?”

“Because you were off Divines know where looking for this piece of absolute _junk_ while we were almost killed by the Legion and the Thalmor! _They found us, you idiot!_ Because you thought your stupid obsession was more important than your promise!”

“…I…” Benny began to shake, slowly sinking down into a chair.

“ _Bruce!_ ” Watevra snapped. “That’s enough! Sirius _told_ us he went to see Hermaeus Mora- try using that brain I know you’ve got and _think_ about that for a bit.” There were several gasps as she shed her human guise and _flowed_ toward the distraught Daedra, wrapping herself around him like a blanket as he hiccupped.

 _“I’m sorry!”_ he wailed. “I _knew_ what he was doing, but I- I couldn’t-”

“Shh, honey, it’s not your fault,” she soothed as he sobbed, snuggling into her hold.

“Why did you go to see him, anyway?” Mayhem repeated when Benny missed the Knight’s signing. Benny frowned and sniffled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Oh, right. I forgot… It’s… Emmet. I went to see him because Emmet’s got. _Someone_ latched onto him. Like a parasite.”

“Ye mean that Rex fellow?”

“Oh. You already know?”

“We’ve seen him, yeah,” Kitty answered. “Emmet said something about trying to help him, that he needs dragon souls to break free from Mora’s grasp, but what do you mean ‘parasite’?”

“He’s using Emmet as an anchor, probably so he can come here- for however brief a time- to get those dragon souls. But he’s also… leeching off of Emmet’s soul. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but the longer it goes on, the weaker Emmet’s going to get. It might even eventually kill him, I’m not sure yet… I went to see Mora about separating them again, and. He distracted me.” Kitty scooted closer, nuzzling him gently.

“I thought you said he was trying to _collect_ Emmet,” Penn mused. “If so, why risk _killing_ him?”

“Trapping him the same way he did Rex?” Vitruvius guessed.

“Who knows,” Benny snorted. “People say _I’m_ mad, but that’s one head I definitely _never_ want to look into. _Something_ he saw in the stars, I’m sure.”

“And you can’t scry that for yourself?” Bruce needled. Benny shrank in on himself.

“Hey, I’m still learning the ropes, okay? Jy- my _predecessor_ may have granted me his power, but he didn’t exactly give me the _experience_ to go along with it. I’m entirely self-taught, here. And that’s _his_ sphere anyway, you know how possessive he gets…” Benny frowned. “You know, you still haven’t told me where ‘here’ is.”

 _‘Welcome to Sky Haven Temple,’_ the Knight signed. _‘Our new home.’_


	37. Chapter 37

“Can I ask you something?”

Lucy smiled to herself; it didn’t take him long to try to fill the silence. “Sure. What is it?”

“Why do you fight? I mean not like you personally- well, maybe that too- but mostly I mean everyone in the rebellion?”

She remembered this question, and felt somewhat bad for neglecting to answer it before. She twirled a lock of hair around a finger as she thought. Emmet waited patiently for her answer.

“It goes back to the Oblivion Crisis, really. It was the Hero of Kvatch and Emperor Martin Septim who brought it to an end, but the Aldmeri Dominion claimed they accomplished that single-handedly. Maybe they did in Alinor. I’d heard the previous Altmer government gave the Thalmor the power to do whatever was needed to protect Alinor from the daedra. Bad decision, in hindsight. No one back then fully understood the threat they would one day pose.

“The Thalmor continued to grab for power, assassinating the Emperor’s replacement. They persecuted the Altmer elite and purged the entire island of anyone not of elven descent. They found sympathizers in Valenwood and overthrew Imperial control there just like they did in Alinor, then told the Khajiit they used something called Dawn Magicks to restore the moons after the Void Nights, earning _their_ loyalty. They’ve been slowly growing in power ever since, ‘silencing’ anyone who opposed them, waiting until they had an army powerful enough to challenge the Empire- which they finally did about thirty years ago, maybe a little more.”

“By ‘silencing’, do you mean…”

“They told people that dissidents were simply exiled, but the reality is that they were all killed,” Lucy explained. “These people are ruthless. They beheaded every single Blades agent in their territories and brought _every single head_ to the Imperial Palace when they declared war. They committed countless atrocities during their conquest, the worst of it being the Sacking of the Imperial City. Emperor Titus Mede the Second managed to completely wipe out all Thalmor forces in Cyrodiil after that, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they returned and completely destroyed the Empire, so he agreed to the terms of the treaty- which was basically everything that the Thalmor demanded at the start of the war. Cession of a large part of Hammerfell, disbanding of the Blades, and outlawing the worship of Temu. And ever since they gained power here, they’ve been persecuting anyone that doesn’t fit their limited view of ‘acceptable’. Master Builders, like me, because we are the children of Temu. Half-bloods. People who love someone other than the opposite sex or their own species.”

“Like Ken and Lenny?” Lucy gave him a startled glance at that. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Like them. The Thalmor start by weeding out ‘undesirables’ like us, then they’ll come up with more arbitrary definitions of ‘undesirable’ to wipe out others, and weaken humanity until there’s no fight left in us. And I shudder to think what sort of hell they’ll wind up putting the Khajiit or Argonians through. In short… we’re fighting for our lives. They’ve given us no choice in the matter, by hunting us down and slaughtering us like cattle.”

Emmet was silent as he processed that. “And there’s so few of you left now…”

“In Skyrim, at least,” Lucy sighed. “We have no idea what the situation is like in other provinces. Hopefully better than ours. We had some people from the other provinces join us here at the start of it all, but since the Thalmor closed the borders, we haven’t received so much as news, let alone reinforcements. We sent some scouts out… maybe a year ago now, to see if they couldn’t get past the borders and bring us some help. We haven’t heard from them since, and can only assume the Thalmor killed them. And we have no allies left, either. No one wants to risk the wrath of the Thalmor to help us, even if they agree with us.”

“But the people of Windhelm?”

“Agreed to keep their silence about our presence, and that’s about it. We haven’t received any aid from them otherwise.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “We’re stubborn and we’ll fight to the last of us, but… it’s only a matter of time before the Thalmor stomp us out completely.”

She’d barely gotten the words out before grabbing Emmet and using him- or rather, his armor- as a shield. He startled as something pinged off his right pauldron. Lucy had her bow out in a blink, returning fire.

 _“Hey!”_ he yelped, turning to see one of the inn’s patrons with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, screaming in pain as he clutched at it. Lucy stalked over to where he’d fallen, snarling. “Lucy, don’t _kill_ him-”

“I’m not going to,” she huffed, reaching over to yank the arrow out of the man’s shoulder. He screamed again. She drew her dagger, pressing it under his chin. “He’s going to serve as a warning and go back and tell his _buddies_ to _back off_. _Right?_ ” He nodded vigorously, eyes wide. “ _Good_.” She glowered as he scrambled back to his feet and hurried away.

“What- Why did he follow us?”

Lucy put her dagger away, but remained on alert. “That’s why you don’t talk about things like the Elder Scrolls in public. It tends to attract all sorts of attention- usually the _wrong_ sort.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know anything about them?”

“I know enough to know that I don’t _want_ to know more than that. Come on, we should pick up the pace, no telling how close his ‘buddies’ are.”

~* *~

General Callaghan sat at the map table, staring down at the angry black marks slashed all over it- every place his scouts had checked for the rebels and came up empty-handed. How in the world had they just… _disappeared_ like that? He’d thought, many times, of asking Sirius if he might have overheard any plans the rebels had of moving, but he was proving impossible to get to these days. He had sent several messages to the Embassy, requesting to meet with him just for a few minutes, if he had the time to spare. Not a single one was answered.

Something about that didn’t sit right with him. The Thalmor were being unusually quiet lately. He thought back to their trip home, after retrieving the Ambassador. He’d seemed unusually wary around his own kin, only ever relaxing when the General was within earshot (and even then, only slightly). Sirius had insisted he was fine, and the Thalmor healers declared him physically sound… so what _had_ the rebels done to him during his brief stay with them?

And why wouldn’t he answer his messages? He was usually very prompt about responding.

Unless…

He wasn’t _getting_ them.

Barbara had expressed growing concern about Ondolemar since Sirius’ rescue, and honestly, she wasn’t the only one. The Head Justiciar seemed to be overstepping his bounds- a display of dominance, perhaps? Or a challenge for it. He certainly seemed to be calling the shots more and more, lately. Or had their Council made that decision and they were just… stringing Sirius along?

Either way, he had to get into the Embassy to see him, and _soon_.


	38. Chapter 38

The airship and its various pieces had been moved outside to the training grounds by the time Lucy and Emmet returned to the Temple. They were very surprised to see the rest of the rebellion waiting for them there. “What happened?” Lucy asked.

“We were found,” Jenny explained. “They burned the old place.” Lucy had to sit down. That had been _home_ for the past five years. “I know,” the alchemist soothed, voice soft and sad. “We almost didn’t make it out.”

“Benny didn’t say anything…?”

“…He was having a rough time of his own.”

“Oh no,” Lucy sighed. A ‘rough time’ for Benny meant he’d lost himself for a while.

“Yeah. And then Bruce had the nerve to yell at him about it when he finally turned up again.”

“That _idiot_ ,” she growled. “Benny annoys the crap out of me, but even _I_ wouldn’t do that to him.”

“He found an airship,” Jenny explained. “He’s… he’s been outside working on it ever since. Whenever he’s actually _here_ , anyway, which has been maybe twice and very briefly since he came back.”

“Is he here now?” Emmet asked.

“I don’t know, but you can go look. He’ll be out at the training grounds.”

“Um…?”

“Through those big doors up there,” she pointed. Emmet nodded and headed outside.

“Oh, _wow_ ,” he gasped upon seeing the mostly-complete airship propped up in the middle of the training grounds. “Benny? Are you out here?”

“Up here,” came a response. It didn’t hold any of his usual cheer. Emmet looked around for a way up.

“Uh…”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Emmet watched as he dropped himself down over the side.

“Hey, are you okay…?”

Benny shrugged. “Been a rough week.”

“Yeah, Jenny said. Bruce is a big jerk.”

A grin slowly made its way across Benny’s face. “Coming from you? That’s like the worst insult ever,” he giggled.

“Do you need a hug?”

“Nah, I’m cool. Thanks for offering though.”

“Your airship looks like it’s coming along well.”

“It is!” Benny chirped. “I’ve almost got the shell put together, then I’ll tackle the engine. Did you find out what you needed to know?”

“Sort of,” Emmet sighed. “I got pointed in a direction, at least. I need to find an Elder Scroll.”

Benny whistled. “That so? You know, those used to be housed in the White-Gold Tower. Until the Concordat was signed, at least.”

“What happened after that?”

“They ‘mysteriously vanished’.” He grinned widely. Emmet stared at him.

“…You had something to do with that, didn’t you?”

“Maybe~” Benny sang, and rocked back on his heels. “Couldn’t let the Thalmor get their hands on them, that would be the end of us all.” Emmet laughed.

“Would you know where I can find one now, then?”

“Nope!”

“But you just said-”

“I used the Wabbajack to scatter them, it’s not like I personally took them to each location they’re at now, wherever those may be. So I honestly haven’t a clue where any of them ended up, it’s unpredictable like that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But hey, you should go check out the College of Winterhold. Last I knew there was something of an expert on the Scrolls hanging out there. Bit of a crazy fellow named Septimus Signus.”

“Sounds like he’s right up your alley.” Benny laughed.

“He does, doesn’t he? But he should be able to tell you _exactly_ where you can find an Elder Scroll.”

Emmet grinned. “Great! Thanks, Benny!”

Benny’s smile softened. “No, thank _you_ , Emmet.”

“Huh? What for?”

“For taking the time to make sure I’m alright and cheer me up. I needed that.”

“Oh.” Emmet smiled back. “You’re welcome, I’m glad I could help.”

“And hey.” Benny became serious. “Be careful, yeah? Something gives me the feeling Mora’s gonna have his slimy tentacles all over this.”

Emmet shuddered. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Good luck.”

Emmet waved and made his way back inside. “Was he out there?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah, I found him. I think he’s okay now.”

“That’s good,” she said, relieved.

“I asked him about the Elder Scrolls, he said there’s supposed to be an expert on them at the College of Winterhold.”

Lucy smacked a palm to her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? Come on, let’s go find Kitty.”

“What? Why?”

“She’s a member of the College, or at least was, I don’t know if they’ll still honor that. But she should be able to get us in. Hopefully.”

“Oh.” He nodded, following her through the temple in search of the Khajiit. It didn’t take too long to find her, helping Watevra set up shop in their new infirmary. It had taken a while to gather the necessary materials to craft a new alchemy table, and to collect enough ingredients to start replenishing their potion supply. The two of them glanced over, realizing they had company.

“Hi!” Kitty chirped. “How’d it go??”

“Feels like we’re on a goose chase,” Lucy sighed. “Greybeards don’t know the Shout Emmet needs but told him how he _might_ learn it, so we came back here to see if Vitruvius knows anything about Elder Scrolls, Emmet asked Benny and now we need to get into the College.”

“Goodness, that _is_ a goose chase,” Watevra remarked.

“Well sure,” Kitty agreed easily. “That shouldn’t be a problem! It’d be kinda nice to say hi to Urag again! I wonder if he misses me.”

“Urag?” Emmet asked.

“Grumpy old orc,” Kitty giggled. “He manages the Arcanaeum- the College’s library. He’s actually pretty cool, and knows everything there is to know about every book in the library.”

“We’ll head out in the morning, then?” Lucy asked, getting her back on track.

“Yep! See you at supper!”


	39. Chapter 39

It had taken them nearly a week to reach Winterhold; there was an unusual number of Legion scouts out and about, no doubt combing all of Skyrim to try to find them. They were nearly spotted numerous times, and all too often it was only Kitty’s quick casting of her invisibility charm that kept them from being discovered.

The General must be desperate to find them.

But they did eventually reach the College, and Kitty was enthusiastic in her greeting the Altmer guarding the gate. “Faralda!” she squealed, bouncing up to the elf. Faralda smiled at her in return.

“It’s good to see you again, Ko’Lyra. I wondered if your decision to leave the College would be permanent.”

“Please, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Kitty? And I’m… not exactly _coming back_ just yet, I’m on a bit of a mission. Is Septimus still around?”

“Septimus?” She seemed surprised by that inquiry. “No, we haven’t seen him since shortly after you left, actually. If he was eccentric before, he was an absolute raving lunatic by the time he departed for that little hovel of his further north.”

“Oh no, what happened??”

“Urag believes he got his hands on an Elder Scroll, and read it without proper preparation. He wrote a book on it before he left, that made no sense whatsoever.”

“Ohh, Septimus,” Kitty sighed. “Thank you, though. You said north?”

“Almost directly. It’s past the island, up in the ice floes.”

“Great, I’ll head that way then.”

“You’re going alone?” Lucy asked.

“I think that would be best, for now. Besides, Emmet still needs to learn magic, and what better place than the College??” Faralda seemed intrigued by that.

“Has he had any training?”

“Not yet,” Kitty sighed. “We’ve kind of had a lot going on lately. But he’s the Dragonborn! Go ahead Emmet, Shout for her!”

“Oh, uh, okay. _Lok Vah Koor!_ ”

Faralda stared in wonder as the whirling snow stopped, the heavy cloud cover lightening up. “Alright,” she agreed. “He may attend our classes. And your other friend?”

“Lucy,” she introduced herself. “I’m here to ensure his safety, Emmet prefers not to fight.”

“I see,” Faralda mused. “Yes, I heard rumors- I suppose he is quite a tempting target. Very well, you may come as well. Ko’Lyra-”

“ _Kitty_.”

“I wish you luck. No one has been able to make sense of his ramblings since his ‘accident’.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright going alone?” Emmet asked.

“I can look after myself!” Kitty promised. “And I know you’ll be in good hands too, you can trust the staff here.”

“Okay… Be careful.”

“I will!” Kitty hugged them both before trotting away, and Faralda led them across the bridge, opening the gate to grant them access.

“You will want to speak with Mirabelle Ervine, our Master Wizard. She will get you set up with accommodations and introduce you to your instructor.”

“Thanks for the help!” Emmet said. Faralda gave him a faint smile and bowed her head to him before returning to her post.

“I think I like her,” Lucy remarked.

“Me too!”

“Come on, let’s go find this Mirabelle.” Lucy faltered when she spotted a Thalmor across the courtyard, speaking with a Breton woman, but stepped closer to listen in on their conversation.

“I believe I made myself rather clear.”

“Yes, of course. I’m simply trying to understand the reasoning behind the decision.”

“You may be used to the Empire bowing to your every whim, but you will find the Thalmor will find no such treatment here. You are here at the pleasure of the Arch-Mage. I hope you appreciate the opportunity.”

“Yes, of course. The Arch-Mage has my thanks.”

“Very good. Then we’re done here.”

“Ooh, I _really_ like her,” Lucy murmured, and Emmet tried to stifle his giggling. The woman turned at the soft sound, spotting the pair of them standing there waiting.

“Can I help you with something?”

“We’re looking for Mirabelle Ervine,” Emmet said.

“You’ve found her. What can I do for you?”

“Faralda said we should come find you. I’m a new student here.”

“Just you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Lucy.

“He’s the Dragonborn. I’m his security detail.”

“I see. Come along, then.” Mirabelle gave them a tour of the College, assigning them both rooms in the students’ quarters before taking them to the Hall of Elements to introduce them to Emmet’s instructor, an elderly Nord named Tolfdir. Emmet immediately took a liking to him.

The first lesson was on using wards, and Emmet took to it like a duck to water. Lucy approved of Tolfdir’s emphasis on safety first, even if the other students were more eager to jump right into learning the more dangerous spells. Once the instructor was satisfied of their mastery of Lesser Ward, he moved on to teaching them a basic healing spell, and then Candlelight. Emmet was exhausted by the time Tolfdir concluded their lessons for the day.

“Is he alright?” Tolfdir asked with some concern, upon seeing how Emmet leaned on Lucy for support.

“Just tired,” he murmured.

“This is his first time ever using magic,” Lucy explained. “Faralda made it sound like your students usually have some basic training beforehand.”

“Usually, yes. At least enough to have experience with how draining casting can be. I think you did very well for your first time, though.” Emmet grinned at the praise. “Get yourself some supper, and then rest. I’ll go easier on you tomorrow, now that I know.”

“‘Kay.”


	40. Chapter 40

Sirius sighed to himself as he leaned back in his chair to stretch, and rubbed at his tired eyes. Had _no one_ managed the paperwork in his absence? It was unbelievable how much had piled up during his two week ‘vacation’. He knew Ondolemar was more the ‘hands-on’ sort, but this was honestly _ridiculous_.

Requisition forms, incident reports, correspondence from the Emperor, the High Council, their representatives in the other provinces, Ancano while he was away at the College of Winterhold, expenditures… And every day, there was more. But he’d managed to work through most of it, and was nearly caught up again. Strange he’d heard nothing from the General lately, though.

There was a knock at his door. “What,” he sighed in aggravation, glowering at the intruder. It was Ondolemar. Sirius fought down the nauseous feeling that arose at being caught alone with the Head Justiciar. His skin still crawled, though.

“A moment of your time, Ambassador?” Sirius nodded stiffly. Ondolemar stepped in, carefully casual, and Sirius felt his hackles rise. Something was off. He struggled to keep his composure, lacing his fingers together to keep the tremors from becoming obvious and laying his hands on his desk. “The Council has expressed concern that you may have been… _compromised_ during your stay with the rebels.”

Sirius gave him an exasperated look. “They took _this long_ to decide they’re going to worry about my mental state? Why now? Has the quality of my work suffered?”

“Your decisions regarding the requests for aid in tracking down Temu worshipers have been _questionable_ , of late.”

He scowled. “Perhaps if someone had bothered to take care of the paperwork in my absence, I wouldn’t have had to _prioritize_ while trying to catch up.” Inside, he was fighting down panic. Where had that come from? He hadn’t thought he’d been treating the matter any differently…

He felt suddenly like he was drowning, as Ondolemar reached out and placed an object no bigger than a chicken’s egg on his desk. A _dimstone_. So it was merely an excuse to finally be rid of their biggest embarrassment.

He’d outlived his usefulness.

And he was trapped alone with the Head Justiciar, unarmed, his magic now nullified.

No. _Not_ unarmed. Ondolemar only thought him so. He aimed to keep it that way as long as possible. “I see,” he said, impressed at how evenly his words came out despite his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest. “So the Council has made their decision.”

“I would say I’m sorry, but truth be told, I’ve been waiting for this day for a _long_ time.”

“Well, at least you’re honest about it.” He pushed himself out of his chair, standing and stubbornly holding Ondolemar’s gaze, seeing the disgust there as gold met gray. “Make it quick, at least, I’m not very patient.” His fingers slipped inside his sleeves, his mind racing. _Sky Haven Temple had been built near an Akaviri military camp. You know you’ve read about those once or twice- where was the one in the Reach?_ He ducked to the side as Ondolemar’s sword stabbed at him, earning a slice across his shoulder, and drew the dagger hidden inside his sleeve. The Head Justiciar was startled as his next attack was blocked, staring at the crude weapon in the Ambassador’s hand. It was all the opening Sirius was going to get. He moved quickly, stabbing at Ondolemar’s face. The elf jerked away to avoid potentially fatal damage, but the dagger still opened a deep gash across his cheek and sheared the tip of an ear off. He howled in pain, flinching back, and Sirius ran for it. The skin-crawling itch disappeared as he made it past the dimstone’s range, just in time to come face to face with a troop of guards.

He steeled himself for the fight, calling forth his magic.

~* *~

Kitty shivered, rubbing her arms as she made her way to the little island in the middle of the ice floes. It took what felt like an eternity of searching but she’d finally spied a little wooden door propped up against what she’d initially assumed was an iceberg. She let herself in. It wasn’t much better inside, but at least she was out of the wind.

Making her way through the icy tunnel, she could hear someone’s rambling voice echo its way back to her. She couldn’t make sense of it, but she recognized it. She wondered if he’d recognize her.

And there he was, pacing back and forth in front of a giant box obviously of Dwemer construct and lecturing to an audience of none in metaphors and nonsense. Her heart ached for him. “Septimus?” she called out as she approached him. He turned to her, and though his gaze was on her, it felt like he was seeing _through_ her. Probably had no idea who she was, anymore. He was as good as a stranger to her like this, himself. “I’m looking for an Elder Scroll,” she started, voice wavering as she fought to get her emotions back under control.

“The Empire. They absconded with them,” Septimus said. Emmet had mentioned as much on the trip to the College. “Or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw. I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I... I have arisen beyond its grasp.”

So he didn’t happen to have one with him. She should have guessed as much, the way this whole quest for Emmet to learn the Dragonrend Shout was going. Of course it wouldn’t be that simple. “Where can I find it?”

“Here. Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby.”

She drew in a deep breath, calling upon every ounce of patience she possessed. Divines, no wonder Faralda had wished her luck. “Can you help me get it or not?”

“One block lifts the other. Septimus will give you what you want, but you must bring him something in return.”

“Alright, fair enough. What is it you want?”

He gestured to the massive box he’d been pacing before. “You see this masterwork of the Dwemer. Deep inside their greatest knowings. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the Dwemer. Lucky then they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies. Have you heard of Blackreach? ‘Cast upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept.’”

“Can’t say I have. Where is it?”

“Under deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock.”

 _Ugh, riddles_. But she knew where Alftand was. “How do I get in?”

“Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But... empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know.” He handed her said objects, a cube and a sphere, of similar size. They both fit easily in the palms of her hands. She placed both inside her pack.

“Thank you,” she told him, and made her way back out. It was not going to be a fun trip back to Winterhold.


	41. Chapter 41

Emmet was out cold by the time Kitty made it back to the College, completely wiped out by the day’s lessons. “What did you find out?” Lucy asked.

“The Elder Scroll’s in Blackreach,” Kitty told her.

“What’s Blackreach?”

“Some Dwemer city. Or. Collection of cities? I don’t know, it wasn’t made very clear, but the way in is through Alftand. Septimus gave me the key.”

“Feels like we’re finally getting somewhere,” Lucy said, and Kitty sighed.

“Ugh, I know. Why in the world would the Divines give us a Dragonborn to stop the end of the world then make it _so damn hard_ to actually do that??”

“That’s not the only problem we have.”

“What?”

“There’s a Thalmor here.”

Kitty was stunned into silence. “Wha… I don’t understand. Why would the Arch-Mage let one of _them_ in when he’s been so careful to keep the College _out_ of the conflict?”

Lucy shrugged. “I really have no idea, but it seems he’s been nosing about and annoying your Master Wizard.”

“Not that it takes much to annoy Mirabelle, but yes, this is bad. They must be looking for something here.” She whined and thumped her head against the wall. “Shame we don’t have Sirius to pester an answer out of, anymore.”

“You think we should stick around, see what they’re up to?”

“I don’t know,” Kitty pouted. “I’m ready to be done with this whole dragons ordeal, but I also really don’t want the Thalmor to get their hands on… whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“Let’s stick around a while longer, then. Tolfdir says Emmet’s doing well with the lessons, I’d hate to drag him away so soon.”

Kitty nodded. “Sounds good.”

~* *~

General Callaghan made his way to the Embassy. He was done with sending messages; if they were going to blow him off, they’d have to do it to his face. He fought down a satisfied smirk when the guard at the gate straightened up at the unexpected sight of him. ”General-”

“I’m here to see the Ambassador,” he growled. “I have an important matter regarding the rebels to discuss with him, and I’ve had quite enough of my requests going ignored.”

“I’m afraid the Ambassador is _unavailable_ ,” the guard sneered at him.

“Unacceptable,” the General snarled back. “Either you can go and get him for me, or I’m going in myself. Regardless of your choice I’m not leaving until I’ve seen him.” The guard glowered at him, and he glared right back. Damned elves should have learned long ago they couldn’t intimidate him. Finally the guard huffed and left, heading inside. He was only a couple steps behind, refusing to wait outside.

The guard whirled on him. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter-”

“I changed my mind. I’m coming in anyway.”

“You can’t just do that-”

He leaned in close, not caring that the elf had a few inches on him. “ _Watch me._ ”

“ _Fine_ ,” the elf snarled, and marched to the solar, the General in tow. He stopped at the Ambassador’s office and knocked sharply before saluting. “Sir, the General’s here to see you.” The General let himself in, and froze when he saw Ondolemar sitting at Sirius’ desk.

“Where’s Sirius?” he demanded, confused.

“Our former First Emissary went rogue, it seems,” Ondolemar informed him. “Took out quite a few of our soldiers before we finally managed to put him down.”

General Callaghan stood in stunned silence for a few moments, before finally finding his voice again. “So he’s…?”

“Gone, I’m afraid. The Council has named me First Emissary in his stead.”

“I see,” he said stiffly. “I apologize for causing a commotion. I’ll see myself out.”

Something about the whole situation really wasn’t adding up. Sirius had been wary, certainly, but there were no indications whatsoever that he meant to betray the Thalmor. He’d seemed as loyal as ever. It had to have been someone else who made the first move, likely Ondolemar himself. The smug bastard.

And now Sirius was…

He paused in the receiving room, where Sirius always held his parties, and glanced around. Intellectually, he knew he ought to be happy to find the Ambassador was dead. The Thalmor liked to pretend otherwise, for reasons beyond him, but he’d gotten to know Sirius well enough to know _he_ was the brains behind most of the Thalmors’ victories (and ruthlessness). To know he could no longer be a threat…

And yet he couldn’t ignore the thought that Sirius had also been the one person to keep everything from _really_ falling apart.

He’d have to send word back to the Imperial City, and warn the Emperor.


	42. Chapter 42

Emmet nearly panicked to find himself in Apocrypha with no memory of how he got there.

“Relax, kid,” came Rex’s voice. “You’re not in Apocrypha, _I’m_ just in _your head_.”

“Oh.” Emmet calmed at that, and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Why?”

“We gotta talk,” Rex said, voice grim, and Emmet could just imagine the serious look behind the mask. The elder Dragonborn sat across from him, mimicking his pose.

“Okay, what about?”

“You and your friends are well on your way to finding an Elder Scroll, but you’re still nowhere near ready to face Alduin. _I’m_ nowhere near ready to _help_ you. A handful of dragon souls isn’t going to be _enough_ to help me break free of Hermaeus Mora.”

“I know, Rex, but we just haven’t come across that many…!”

“I know,” Rex soothed. “Not blaming you, I’m just saying. Go ahead and get the Elder Scroll, but maybe hold off a while before you head back up the mountain and read it. Try to find some more dragons for me. Because I can tell you right now, even if you and your friends succeeded in killing Alduin, you’re nowhere near strong enough to absorb his soul.”

Emmet frowned. “And you are?”

“You _did_ see all the dragon skeletons around my temple, didn’t you?” Emmet could hear the smirk in his voice. “’Cause I can tell you, there’s at least twenty of them, and I didn’t face them one at a time. They came all at once.”

“Whoa…”

“So yeah. I am. Just… not enough to take on a _Daedric Prince_ yet.”

“Okay,” Emmet agreed. “I’ll see what I can do. I don’t really feel ready, myself, anyway…”

Rex nodded. “Good. See if you can’t pick up a few more Shouts first, it’ll really help.”

“Okay!”

“Good luck.”

~* *~

They stayed at the College only for a couple more days, just long enough for Emmet to pick up on a few tricks for energy management and learn a few more spells. He’d been hesitant to learn anything from the Destruction school at first, until Tolfdir explained its applications outside of combat. “Just like a hammer, or a saw, or a pickaxe, magic is first and foremost a tool. How you use it is entirely up to you,” the instructor explained.

Kitty had kept a close eye on the Thalmor (Ancano, Mirabelle told her his name was), but was no closer to figuring out his motives than when they first arrived. “We may have to revisit the matter later,” she sighed. “As it is, it seems he’s been here for a while and hasn’t made any progress since his arrival, so I think we can let this one go for a while. We should work on getting the Scroll.”

“Yeah…” Emmet said.

“Emmet?” Lucy asked, giving him a concerned look. “You don’t think that’s a good idea?”

“I just- I don’t think I’m _ready_ , yet. Maybe I should, I don’t know, try learning a few more Shouts first? Get a few more dragon souls, maybe…?”

“If your _friend_ Rex doesn’t steal them first?” Lucy drawled. “Maybe you’re right though, this whole thing hinges on _you_ after all. Alright, yeah. Let’s go get the Scroll, then see if we can’t find a few more of those Word Walls.”

Emmet sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

They left the College the next morning, heading for the ancient Dwemer city of Alftand. Emmet stared in awe when they arrived, at what little could be seen aboveground, anyway. “This is _incredible!_ ”

“Just wait til you see inside,” Kitty giggled. “There’s some seriously _amazing_ stuff inside these ruins. Just be careful, because there’s usually also Falmer and the Dwemer animunculi roaming about.”

“Ani-what?”

Kitty laughed. “ _Animunculi_. Kind of like… living machines. They have only the most basic intelligence, kind of like dogs, but they were built to protect the cities. The spiders are pretty easy to take out, they’re more annoying than anything. It’s the spheres, and _especially_ the centurions and ballistae, you wanna watch out for.”

“I’ve never dealt with either, what can you tell us about them?” Lucy asked.

“Okay, uh, well, the spheres look pretty much like you’d expect- when they’re in their docile patrol mode, anyway. They kind of unfold when on alert, and they’ve got a sword and a crossbow attached to their arms. They can deal some moderate damage, but they don’t hit anywhere _near_ as hard as the other two. Centurions are usually like fifteen to twenty feet tall, they have massive hammers for arms, and they can shoot boiling hot steam up to thirty feet. But they move slow, unlike the spheres, so if you’re quick, you can take them out without getting hurt. The ballistae are… basically that, just mobile, and they shoot these freaking _spears_ at you. Hard enough they might even puncture Emmet’s armor.” Emmet shuddered at the thought. “But for all that they pack a punch, you can take them out with two or three shots from a bow. Maybe even less, with yours.”

“Alright, good to know. Emmet, you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess…”

“It’ll be fine!” Kitty assured. “They’re all also really weak to fire, so between Lucy and I, this’ll be a piece of cake! Oh it’s a shame Benny’s not here, I bet he’d go _nuts_ to see Blackreach!”


	43. Chapter 43

Penn paused in her work when she heard a distant rumble. She’d just been outside not all that long ago; the skies were clear, not a single sign of a storm approaching. She heard it again, and realized it wasn’t coming from outside anyway. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere… below them?

 _Something must have stirred up the Forsworn_ , she realized. But Lenny hadn’t reported anyone approaching, so it couldn’t have been the Thalmor or the Legion. She wasn’t the only one to have heard the commotion either, as she was met at the stairs by Jenny, Watevra, and Lloyd, each of them wearing curious expressions.

“What do you think that is?” Jenny asked.

“The Forsworn are fighting something. Lenny’s on lookout duty and he hasn’t said anything though, so I have no idea who kicked the hornet’s nest.”

“We should go check it out,” Lloyd suggested. “Just in case.”

“I think you’re right,” Penn agreed, and led the way down into the cavern. The thundering sound grew louder the closer they got, and increased in frequency. They could soon hear angry screaming from the Forsworn, and hurried the rest of the way. What they found was… unexpected.

The entirety of the Forsworn camp was being held at bay by a lone intruder in tattered black robes, throwing spells one after another to fend off his attackers. Jenny was the first to jolt into action, running up to his side and casting chain lightning. Penn was close behind her, conjuring a flame atronach that swooped into the madness. The Forsworn finally gave up at the arrival of reinforcements, fleeing the cavern. The intruder wobbled on his feet, then toppled over. Watevra moved quickly to catch him, and was shocked to find his side soaked. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered in red.

“Oh no,” Jenny gasped.

“It’s not too late,” Watevra said, hefting their ‘guest’ into her arms. “Jenny, go get my supplies ready.” Jenny nodded and sprinted back to the temple, Penn following closely.

“Do you need help?” Lloyd asked.

“Thank you for offering, honey, but I got this. I’d appreciate you watching my back in case those lunatics come back.” Lloyd nodded, keeping watch as she carried the injured man up into the temple. He put the bridges back up as they passed. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing him again so soon…”

“He looks like he’s been through hell.”

“He probably _has_ ,” Watevra sighed. She finally made it into the infirmary and laid him on the operating table, then cut away his destroyed robes. She looked him over, then more closely inspected the gash in his side. Jenny sighed as she ran her fingers through his matted hair, making a face at the tangles.

“I wonder how he found us.”

“He’s smart, of course he would have figured it out. I’m more surprised that he didn’t rat us out when he had every opportunity to. Hand me that canister, would you?” Jenny passed it over silently. “Something wrong?”

“I’m just… having a hard time with this, is all. He’s been our worst nightmare for years, slaughtering so many innocent people, and then he shows up on our doorstep half-dead. By all rights we should have just _left_ him, and yet… Here we are trying to _save_ him.”

Watevra smirked at her. “You were the first to come to his rescue.”

“Because we’re better than the Thalmor.”

“Hold him up, would you? I have to bandage his side.” Jenny carefully lifted him into a sitting position, watching as Watevra quickly wrapped gauze into place, then laid him back down. The two women didn’t even glance up as the Knight stepped into the room to watch them, too busy swiping salve over the rest of his injuries. Watevra uncorked a vial and lifted him into a sitting position again, slowly tipping it against his lips. He came to with a start, coughing and spluttering. “Shh,” she soothed. “Drink it, it’ll help with the infection.” He drank it down as instructed, lacking the energy to protest, and drifted back into unconsciousness.

 _‘How bad is he?’_ the Knight signed as he approached.

“Pretty bad, but I think he’ll live,” Watevra told him. “He’s got a bad gash down his side- he must have got it fighting his way out of the Embassy, and then it reopened when he was fighting off the Forsworn. That’s the worst of it, at least. He has a mess of other, smaller injuries as well, and is just very weak in general. I don’t think he’s had much opportunity for rest since his escape.”

 _‘I doubt it,’_ the Knight agreed. _‘It’s a miracle he managed to lose them at all. Work your magic, Watevra, this is one ally I do not want to lose.’_

She smirked at him. “Mmmhmm. You say that, but I’m onto you.” She laughed when he flipped a rude gesture at her, Jenny joining her in her giggles. “But, you’re right. If he agrees, he’ll be a _huge_ help.” She sighed softly as she turned her attention back to the unconscious half-blood lying on the table. “But I’m not sure we’ve won him over just yet.”


	44. Chapter 44

“Wow, this is _incredible!_ ” Emmet gasped as they pushed open the doors into Blackreach. Lucy and Kitty stared in equally wide-eyed wonder, nodding their agreement. It was aptly named, the deep dark of the vast cavern stretching on for what seemed like eternity. But that wasn’t what had caught their attention- the ceiling was covered in some mineral that glowed in blues and purples, sparkling like the night sky, and mushrooms as tall as watchtowers were scattered throughout, giving off bright bluish-white light as they swayed gently. Here and there the cavern was dotted with Dwemer structures, most of them still intact.

“So how are we going to find Mzark here?” Lucy asked.

“Well, Septimus said it was a tower that has a ‘sky-dome’, so it’ll likely be a building that goes all the way to the ceiling.” Looking around, they could see most were only a story or two tall.

“Well that narrows it down at least,” Lucy sighed, and began walking.

Just like the city above, Blackreach was crawling with Falmer. There were fewer animunculi though, which was something of a blessing. It took them no more than an hour to find the Tower, though; Septimus had had the right idea to send them in through Alftand. Emmet raced up the ramp, eager to try to spot the Scroll. _“Whoa!”_

“What?”

“This is so cool! Look!” He pointed upward at a large capsule made of blue crystal. “The Scroll must be in that!”

“How are we supposed to get it down?” Lucy huffed.

“Likely what this is for,” Kitty answered, tossing the cube up and down. “This was the device the Dwemer built to be able to read the Scrolls, I’m guessing. And that looks like the controls for it up there.” The two humans followed her up the rest of the way, to where the controls were. She set the cube into the pedestal, which activated the controls- the interface lit up, and two buttons unlocked. Emmet stepped up to the edge of the platform to watch as Kitty experimented, watching the sphere and rings along the bottom rotate into a different position every time a button was pushed. He could now see why Benny was so fascinated with Dwemer technology; it was beyond anything he had the words for.

“I think I got it!” Kitty called finally, and with the final click of a button, the capsule was lowered within reach and split open. “Go ahead and take it, Emmet,” she told him. He nodded and made his way back down to the device, stepping up to the Scroll. The thing was surprisingly large, easily three feet across from tip to tip. The case appeared to be made of ivory and gold, and was decorated with gem stones and delicate scrollwork.

“Wow,” Lucy breathed as she came up behind him, staring at it in awe. “It’s _beautiful_.”

“It’s an awful lot of case for a piece of paper that’s only like a foot across,” Emmet mumbled as he picked it up from where it rested in the capsule. “Heavier than I was expecting, too.”

“Here,” Lucy said, pulling some leather strips from her pack. She fastened two together to make a longer strap, then tied the ends to the spindles at each tip of the Scroll’s case. “Now you can carry it more easily.”

“Oh, thanks!” He slung it across his back. Kitty grabbed the lexicon from the pedestal and joined them.

“We should get this back to Septimus,” she said. “It’s only fair after all. You two ready?”

“I think so,” Emmet agreed, and Lucy nodded. Kitty led the way back out of the Tower, and they began searching for another way out.

~* *~

He realized he was no longer on the operating table when he woke again, but judging by the pungent smells of potions that he was surrounded by, he was still in the infirmary. He peeled his eyes open to have a look around, and spotted the Knight sitting nearby, straddling a chair with his arms folded over the back. He blinked at that.

 _‘Good morning,’_ the Knight greeted. _‘Feeling better?’_

“…Yes,” he answered cautiously. He wasn’t entirely certain it was a good sign that he was being watched over by the Knight. “What happened to the girls?”

_‘They watched over you all night. I sent them to rest once your fever broke with the promise I’d keep an eye on you for them.’_

“How noble of you,” he snorted. “It’ll be just like old times, always having a babysitter to make sure I don’t go poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

_‘It’s not going to be like that this time.’_

“No?”

_‘You could have given us away. You had plenty of time to do so, and obviously you figured out how to find us. But you left them, and came to us instead. I think you can be trusted now.’_

He cleared his throat at that, glancing away. “I, uh. Wanted to thank you for giving me that dagger. It saved my life. I lost it, though. It’s probably sitting on Ondolemar’s desk as a trophy now. I’m sorry.”

 _‘Don’t be. It served its purpose.’_ He stood up. _‘I’m afraid we couldn’t save your robes, but we managed to find some other clothes for you.’_

He snorted. “That’s fine, don’t think I’d want to wear them ever again anyway. I hope you burned them, actually.”

 _‘Something like that. Anyway they’re sitting on the floor right beside you if you’d like to dress.’_ And with that, he turned and left the infirmary, letting the curtain fall to cover the door as he stepped out.

He leaned over the edge of the cot to look for the mentioned clothing, and found it folded neatly beside him as promised. It wasn’t anything fancy- just a basic tunic, vest, and trousers, and a pair of leather boots. Typical Nord wear, really, but the material was soft enough. He shakily got to his feet and dressed, and winced when he tried to run his fingers through his hair only for them to get caught in the tangles. He huffed to himself. No use in keeping it long now anyway, he didn’t care to look like _them_ anymore. It took only a murmured word to dispel the glamour hiding his eyes, and then he began to search for a sharp blade.

He found one lying on the alchemy table and snatched it up, slicing through his tangled locks with a vengeance, only barely wincing to see the long strands drifting to the floor near his feet. That… honestly felt better, really. He sighed contently as he could rake his fingers through it once more without getting snagged, slowly working out the magic that had tamed his curls for so long. Hell, maybe like this, the Thalmor wouldn’t even recognize him if they crossed paths again.

He liked that thought.


	45. Chapter 45

He slowed as he came upon the city, seeing the gates splintered and lying on the ground. Something had told him he really should come to Windhelm himself instead of sending a courier this time, but he hadn’t expected it would be _this_ bad. He hurried on to Wayne Manor, only to find a smoldering ruin.

They’d been found.

He jolted in realization. There’d been no guards at the gate, no one to get in his way as he hurried through the city. Where were the people? He glanced around, trying to find _some_ sign of life. Surely the Thalmor wouldn’t have wiped them _all_ out…

No, they _would_ have. They were that petty. Clenching his fists, he turned and marched back out of the city. He would go to Solitude. He needed answers.

~* *~

They didn’t stick around Septimus’ outpost for long. They’d handed over the lexicon (but kept the key- Benny would surely appreciate it), and he’d tried for another favor, but Kitty gently but firmly turned him down. They had things to be doing, after all. Emmet was relieved when they escaped without further incident. He’d hoped Benny’s warning was only precaution and not precognition.

They didn’t return to the College, either. Lucy and Kitty had taken his request for further preparation seriously, it seemed, and instead they slowly meandered their way back to the Temple, seeking out dragons along the way. They weren’t hard to find.

Their trek up Shearpoint had been… interesting. Not only was there a dragon to contend with, but a Dragon Priest as well. Emmet helped as much as he could manage (and the grin of approval Lucy threw his way after he shielded her with a ward was almost more than his poor heart could handle). Once both dragon and priest were taken care of, he approached the Word Wall they’d found. “Oh,” he said, upon discovering there were three Words of Power inscribed on it instead of just one. An entire Shout.

“What does it say?” Kitty asked.

“’Far fool voice’,” Emmet said, and closed his eyes as he concentrated. And then giggled. “Oh! Throw Voice!”

“Ooh,” Kitty enthused. “That’ll be _fun_. Give it a try!”

“ _Zul Mey Gut_ ,” Emmet said, barely above a whisper. Kitty threw her head back and laughed in absolute delight as “hey, skeever butt!” echoed from somewhere behind her. Emmet doubled over, joining her in her laughter. Lucy rolled her eyes.

“You guys are so immature,” she huffed, but couldn’t hide her own smile.

“Oh, lighten up, Lucy, it’s all in good fun!”

The next dragon they took down, Rex claimed. “We’re getting close, buddy,” he told Emmet. “Just a few more should do it.” And so they kept hunting as they made their way back to the Reach.

Lucy didn’t miss how worn out Emmet was starting to look. “Maybe we should take a break,” she suggested, starting to get concerned. “I think you’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Kitty told her quietly once Emmet had passed out for the night.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Rex.” Kitty rarely looked so serious. “Benny thinks he’s leeching off Emmet’s lifeforce. He tried to confront Hermaeus Mora about it- I’m sure you figured out that him coming back with an airship meant it didn’t go well.” Lucy nodded, dumbstruck. “The stronger Rex gets, the weaker Emmet gets. He’s taken at least three quarters of the dragons we’ve killed.”

“And we’ve killed a _lot_ …” Lucy murmured, feeling ill. “We have to stop him.”

“We’re going to need Benny’s help. Mora’s probably not going to let us in the same way he did Emmet.” Lucy nodded, and smirked.

“Well. There _is_ a storm coming. Feeling up to doing a little summoning?”

Kitty grinned back. “Oh, you bet!”

~* *~

The Knight paused to stare when he stepped back into the infirmary sometime later, tilting his head as though puzzling out the sudden change in Sirius’ appearance. “There was no way I’d get a brush through it,” the former Ambassador grumbled.

 _‘Actually, I think it suits you,’_ the Knight told him. _‘Breakfast is ready, if you’re interested.’_

“Interested? I’m _famished_. I think all I had to eat the past three days was a handful of berries.”

 _‘Well that won’t do.’_ He offered an arm in support when Sirius took a step and nearly stumbled.

“I’m not an invalid,” he snapped.

_‘And I would never dream of insinuating such a thing. But there’s no shame in accepting a bit of help after the ordeal you’ve been through. No one here will think you weak- in fact, they’re all quite impressed.’_

“…Really?”

_‘You were holding your own against the entirety of the Forsworn camp outside when we found you, and we can only assume you faced the entirety of the Embassy alone as well. So yes, they’re very impressed.’_

“Well then.” He accepted the Knight’s arm, letting the warrior walk him the short distance to the table. Even after the encouragement, he was glad there was no one else up and about yet to see him in such a state. He had just sank himself into a chair when the rest of the rebellion began to trickle into the grand hall. Questions began to fly once they realized he was awake and present. Vitruvius sat across from him, chuckling softly as the former Thalmor shrank back in his chair, overwhelmed by their enthusiastic curiosity.

“Back off,” Penn snapped. “It’s too early for this nonsense.” He shot her a grateful look, and she nodded in response. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he murmured. “Whatever they gave me last night has worked wonders, it seems- I’m still sore and stiff, though.”

Penn nodded. “Give it another day or so and you’ll be right as rain again.”

“Penn.” She glanced back up at him, raising her eyebrows when he very seriously met her gaze. “Thank you.”

She smirked back at him. “You’re one of us, now.”


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG work's been kicking my ass lately... And I got kinda stuck, I might still be kinda stuck, but at least I got another chapter done XP

_Summoning_ a Daedric Prince turned out to be a lot easier than Lucy had expected- it was calming him down and bringing him back to himself afterward that was the tricky part. Unfortunately, summoning a Daedric Prince required the use of their Daedric name, and Benny didn’t get along with his very well. So Kitty had prepared to bind him even before the summoning, expecting chaos and confusion.

“Benny!” she screamed to be heard over the thunder and pouring rain. “It’s me! It’s _Kitty!_ ”

“It’s us!” Lucy added, daring to reach out and grab his face, forcing him to look at them as he fought against his magic bindings, cheerfully belting out some pretty hair-raising threats. He blinked at them, white eyes fading back to warm brown.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he finally said, and Kitty let out a relieved giggle as she released him.

“Thank goodness that didn’t take long,” she said. Benny only responded by nudging them back toward the inn where they could get out of the rain. The main hall was completely unoccupied that late at night, a fact they took advantage of to have their discussion without being overheard. Benny waited patiently as the girls changed into dry clothes, and came back out to hang their wet things on chairs near the fire to dry faster.

“Now what was so important you two felt the need to brave a storm and summon me?”

“Remember what you said before, about confronting Mora?” Kitty asked. Benny stilled, blinking at her.

“I was right, wasn’t I? Emmet’s in trouble.”

“We think so,” Lucy agreed softly. “I thought he was just wearing himself out at first- we’ve been running around Skyrim trying to find Word Walls and kill dragons- but then Kitty told me what _you_ said, and… We started taking longer breaks. They haven’t been helping. We need to do something about it, but Kitty and I didn’t think Mora would just let us in.”

“You’re right on that,” Benny sighed. “And no doubt he already has an inkling of what we’re planning. If we’re going to have a shot at making this work, we’re going to have to act _fast_. We might still be able to catch him by surprise.”

“It’s actually _possible_ to surprise Hermaeus Mora?” Lucy gaped. Benny grinned.

“It is when I’m involved. Daedric Princes don’t have futures set in the stars to be scried- the best he’ll be able to do is see where a mortal’s future is muddled and make a guess based on that. Usually a pretty good guess, but still only a guess. So he’ll prepare for whatever we might throw at him. That’s our window of opportunity- while he’s still preparing, which is why we have to act fast.”

“We should get a move on, then,” Kitty said. “I hate to wake Emmet, though…”

“It doesn’t seem like we have much choice,” Lucy sighed. “I’ll see if I can’t get him moving.”

~* *~

Sirius had never once believed such a drastic change of one’s outlook on life could happen in such a brief span of time, but for him, it had. Turned out all it took was for the people in his life, people that he had _trusted_ , to do a complete 180 and try to _kill him_. Honestly, after everything he’d done to help the Thalmor cause, _that_ was how they repaid him?

And, well, maybe making a few _actual_ friends among the rebels helped with that, too.

Feeling particularly vindictive, he’d agreed to sit with the Knight, Watevra, Penn and Bruce and answer any and every question they had for him regarding the Thalmor (although after a few too many antagonizing remarks, Bruce got kicked out to go find something more productive to do, much to Sirius’ amusement), and he’d spared no detail. Not even his own considerable involvement in the conception and development of most of the Thalmors’ plans was glossed over or omitted.

Penn was both utterly horrified and impressed beyond belief. Watevra looked ready to cry. It was impossible to guess at what the Knight was thinking; his posture was completely relaxed. Sirius resisted the urge to wipe his palms on his pants, trying to ignore how sweaty they felt. He wondered what their judgement would be, now that they knew the full extent of what he’d planned and was capable of.

The three glanced at each other. The Knight gestured in lieu of a meaningful look.

“Thank you for being honest with us,” Watevra started, and Sirius did his best not to let his anxiety show.

“So what’s my punishment to be, then?”

“Punishment? Oh honey no, you’ve been through enough as it is. But if you still feel penance is due, then you can help us.”

He mulled that over. Certainly he was still feeling vindictive in that moment, almost overwhelmingly so, but what about when it wore off? Could he live with himself, actively working to undo everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish? He’d given his entire life to the Thalmor, and though he was angry and confused and hurt _right now_ , it wouldn’t last. He’d fall right back into his old ways of thinking, of being. He wouldn’t be a help to the Thalmor anymore- he _couldn’t_ , even if he wanted to, which he knew he never _would_ want, again- but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be an active member of the rebellion, either. Even if Penn had already claimed him so. Sharing the Thalmors’ current plans and information was about the extent of what he felt able to offer them.

 _‘You don’t have to give us an answer right now,’_ the Knight told him, clearly reading his conflict. _‘Take some time to think about it. You will still be welcome here, whatever your decision.’_

“Even if my decision ends up being to go back to the Thalmor?”

A snort told him very clearly what the Knight thought of _that_. Penn rolled her eyes, and Watevra finally smiled again.

“I don’t think you would, even if that option was available to you,” Watevra told him. “That’s not who you are anymore.”

Sirius stared at her. First the Knight, and now Watevra. What had he ever done to deserve the faith they had in him?

~* *~

He’d meant to be cross, to be _angry_ , with the man standing across the room from him, but when blue eyes turned toward him and widened with delighted shock, it was as if the wind suddenly left his sails, his fury abating in the face of seeing his brother again for the first time in years.

“ _Keelan_ ,” the General breathed, hurriedly crossing the room to embrace him with joy and relief. “You had me worried, I haven’t heard from you in so long-”

“Kinda hard to find a c-courier these days,” he murmured back, returning the hug before remembering the purpose of his visit. He pulled back to scowl at Cary. “I was at Windhelm.”

Cary gave him a careful look. “What about it?”

“What happened? Where’d all the pe-people go?! You- you didn’t- seriously j-just-”

The General sighed. “Give me _some_ credit. I had an inkling what Ondolemar would do. No, I had my men evacuate as many as would leave, and it has been noted in my reports back to the Empire. I’ve suspected for a while that the Thalmor mean to start another war with us.”

“So- the people-”

“Most of them were safely removed,” Cary assured. “We couldn’t save everyone, some refused to leave…”

“B-but you didn’t just… _let_ it happen.”

“No,” Cary told him as firmly as he could manage. “Skyrim is still a part of the Empire, and therefore under Imperial protection. I’m hoping this… _incident_ will convince the Emperor to grant me more autonomy, where the Thalmor are concerned. We’ve been letting them walk all over us for too long.”

“But- won’t this cause another war? You- you’re still fighting the rebels, you can’t- you _can’t_ -”

“Fight a war on two fronts?” Cary guessed, and Keelan nodded. “I certainly don’t intend to. The rebellion came into existence in response to the Thalmor oppression, and I believe they have the right of it. After what the Thalmor did to you, and…”

Keelan squeezed him tightly.

“…and I can’t say I care much for the new Ambassador. I’ve never liked the Thalmor on principle, but that one in particular I would especially enjoy-”

“ _Cary_ ,” Keelan gasped, cutting him off.

“You’d understand if you met him,” Cary growled. “Something about him just rubs me entirely the wrong way. And he insulted Barbara.”

Keelan bristled at that. Barbara had been a dear friend of theirs since they were very young, and he could not fathom how _anyone_ would ever want to insult one of the most wonderful people he’d ever known.

“Now you understand,” Cary murmured. “Why don’t you come sit for a while? I’ve got a blend of winter rose tea I think you’ll really enjoy.” Keelan perked up at the mention of tea, and followed Cary back to his personal quarters. They did have a lot to catch up on, and that was often best done with a hot drink in hand.


	47. Chapter 47

Emmet proved a challenge to wake- the young man slept like a log. It took 'divine intervention' from Benny to jolt him into motion, at which he looked both apologetic and reproachful. Definitely not appreciative of being woken up at some gods-forsaken hour of the morning. “Sorry,” Lucy said. “We really need to get moving, though.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to keep helping Rex,” Benny started, figuring it was best to get right to the point.

“What do you mean?” Emmet frowned at him, not sure he was liking where this was going.

“Whatever Rex did to forge your connection so he can come back to the mortal plane, it’s been slowly draining you. Haven’t you wondered why you’ve felt more tired than usual lately?”

Emmet’s frown intensified. “It’s because we’ve been working so hard on finding dragons and new Shouts. Rex is my _friend_ , he wouldn’t-”

“Rex was also a Dragon Priest, and a follower of Hermaeus Mora,” Lucy pointed out. “Remember that conversation?”

“Just because he _was_ doesn’t mean he _still is_ -”

“And I’d love to believe this draining thing wasn’t intentional, but intentional or not it’s still there and we need to do something about it before it gets any worse,” Benny interrupted. “And we need to hurry, I know Mora knows we’re plotting something but I don’t know how ready he is for us to act yet. The longer we wait, the less chance we’ll have of actually succeeding.”

“Succeeding at _what?_ ”

“Separating you and Rex, and getting you back out of there. Mora’s wanted to Collect you since it was first revealed you’re Dragonborn.”

“But… why?” Emmet curled in on himself. “It’s not like I’m really smart or anything…”

“His thing might be knowledge but he’s still a Daedric Prince, and as the Last Dragonborn, you’re a tempting trophy. I mean he already has the First, of course he’d want to complete his ‘collection’.”

Emmet shuddered at that. “Alright… Alright, let’s go. I don’t want to be ‘collected’.”

Benny nodded. “Alright, sit tight, this is going to feel a bit weird-”

Their surroundings melted and blurred away, reality reshaping itself into a completely different environment. “That wasn’t too bad, was it-”

Benny paused, realizing the others weren’t with him. “Oh-” He glanced around wildly in search of his mortal friends- he had definitely brought them along with them, he could still vaguely sense them in Apocrypha somewhere, but they were certainly nowhere near him. Instead he found himself trapped in a complex cage of Mora’s making with no apparent way out.

“Well, _fuck_.”

~* *~

They jolted at the sudden displacement, Emmet’s dimly lit room replaced by an equally dimly-lit plane of Oblivion. “Urgh,” Lucy complained. Emmet groaned in commiseration. Kitty glanced around in wide-eyed awe, trying to resist the urge to pounce on the scattered papers that were kicked up by non-existent wind. “Benny. ‘Weird’ is a hell of an understatement. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Um,” Emmet said in his most eloquent manner. “Benny doesn’t seem to be here.”

_“What??”_

“Maybe Mora is interfering already,” Kitty offered, frowning to herself. “I imagine he wouldn’t want us to have help, especially not of the Benny sort.”

“Of course not,” Lucy huffed, and shoved herself to her feet, taking a good look around. They were sitting on a stone dais, with steps leading down to what looked like an intricate metal grate. Loose papers covered the walkway, and on every side were stacks upon stacks of books and scrolls. The ‘sky’ overhead, where it could actually be seen through the ‘ceiling’ made of books, was a dim, sickly shade of green. Shuddering, she looked away.

Emmet made his way down the steps. “We might as well get moving,” he suggested. “Maybe we’ll meet up with Benny again along the way, maybe he’s looking for us too.”

“Oh, most definitely,” Kitty agreed, following him.

“Any ideas on which way we should go…?”

“You’re the only one who’s been here before,” Lucy pointed out.

“Well yeah, but I didn’t really _go_ anywhere. Rex met me right where I came in, and we stayed there until he… sent me back.”

Lucy pinned him with a look. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Emmet admitted, giving her a sheepish grin. Kitty smirked and nudged him along before taking the lead.

Lucy kept Emmet close to her as they made their way through Apocrypha. They had to backtrack several times, closing hidden scryes to open gates. They paused when they reached a massive book lying opened on a pedestal, daedric script scrolling endlessly over the pages. “What is this…?” Lucy asked, edging closer to it. “It won’t take us back to Skyrim, will it?”

Kitty peered down at it. Of the three of them, she had the most experience with daedric writings. “No,” she answered after a moment. “It’ll just take us onward, to the next section of Apocrypha.” She grinned. “ _Of course_ he’d set up travel by book.” Lucy jolted when Kitty brushed careful fingers over the parchment, and disappeared.

“I think that’s supposed to happen,” Emmet tried to soothe her. “I think that’s what happened when I read the Black Book, anyway.” He took the opportunity to follow Kitty. After another moment’s hesitation, Lucy followed him. It tingled slightly, and left her feeling just the tiniest bit nauseous, but she was relieved to find herself unharmed.

That relief didn’t last long. They were quickly greeted by a trio of Seekers, strange beings that seemed to be made up of too many tentacles, tattered robes, and a pair of too-long arms, and were none too happy to see uninvited mortals in their master’s domain. Lucy went rigid as the first wave of magic hit, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Kitty was quick to retaliate, and Lucy joined her as soon as she’d recovered. The Seekers died with a gurgle and a small explosion of smoke.

They came to a dead end. There was a space just beyond a tall pillar that looked like it might lead somewhere, so Emmet hoisted Kitty up onto his shoulders to give her a boost, and she scrambled up the rest of the way herself.

“It’s definitely a gate,” she called back down to them, “but I don’t see another one of those scrye-things to open it, anywhere.”

“So we’re stuck,” Lucy grumbled. “Fantastic.”

“Wait, I think I see something… There’s an altar up there, looks like there’s a book on it. A _big_ one. Might be important.” Emmet made his way toward it with Kitty’s guidance, and the moment he picked it up to inspect it, the pillar Kitty was standing on began to slide outward, forming a set of stairs. Lucy yelped and scrambled out of the way to avoid being knocked over by the sudden motion. The gate swung open. Emmet hurried back to his friends, and together they continued onward.

They found three more similar books, each surprisingly titled in Imperial script rather than the expected daedric. They got lost several times, turned around by shortening corridors and swinging tunnels. Lucy was nearly at her wit’s end with it all- nothing about the place made any sense, illogical in ways even Benny couldn’t compete with.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of backtracking and fighting Seekers, they came to a huge domed hall. In the center of the chamber was a strange structure that appeared to be made of tusks, shaped into some twisting sculpture, and shooting a green light skyward. Emmet gasped when he realized why it looked familiar- it was like the strange swirling green covering the skies over Solstheim. Was this the source?

After a moment he also noticed four altars placed around the sculpture. On the closest one he could see a glowing green inscription, an illustration of something. It looked like crab claws.

“Four pedestals, four books,” Kitty mused, looking thoughtful. “Maybe this is what we needed to collect them for?”

“Delving Pincers,” Emmet muttered in response. “Kitty, can you-”

“On it,” she said, going through the books and finding the one that corresponded with the glyph. Lucy grabbed another book from him, jogging away to find its matching pedestal, as Emmet and Kitty split the remaining two books between them to finish solving the puzzle. Books in place, a new pedestal appeared near the twisting sculpture- another Black Book to take them onward.

“You think this is it?” Kitty asked.

“I hope so,” Lucy sighed. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“Me either,” Emmet murmured, starting to look as exhausted as he felt. The too-early awakening was finally getting to him, and he was clearly running on fumes by this point. Lucy reached over and gently squeezed his wrist.

“Let’s finish this.”


	48. Chapter 48

Lucy caught Emmet as he stumbled, helping him stay upright. They found themselves trapped on a large platform, no uncurling bridges, no swinging corridors leading off of it, just a Word Wall on the far side from where they appeared, and another pair of Seekers appearing to study it. They were able to catch the pair by surprise, dispatching them quickly. Emmet made his way over to the Wall, curious to see what Shout was inscribed upon it.

“What is it?” Lucy asked.

Emmet blinked and rubbed at his eyes as if trying to rub the tiredness away so he could focus. “Uh. Looks like some sort of magic armor?” He committed himself to learning it, wondering if it was possible to use a protective Shout on someone other than himself. He’d certainly give it his best shot, anyway. Lucy pressed a hand to his back as he gazed out at the towering pillar across the shifting black ooze that tried to pass as an ocean. He could see what looked like patches of thick black smoke, with tentacles dangling down from them, all around the pillar. “That must be where Rex is,” Emmet sighed. “But how are we supposed to get up there…?”

“I-”

“Look out!” Kitty screamed, pointing at something making its way toward them. They scrambled back as it swooped down to land- the platform was a decent size, but not especially large. Emmet gasped, freezing in place. It was the dragon Rex had ridden when they first met. It dropped down onto the platform, eyeballing the three of them cautiously. Emmet couldn’t believe their luck. While Lucy and Kitty prepared for a fight, Emmet stepped toward it.

“We came to help Rex,” he said before the beast could ask any questions, and hoped it would believe him. He meant it, after all. It cocked its head at that, giving him an almost suspicious look.

“You were not expected yet.”

“We were rather hoping to catch Mora off guard,” Kitty explained, catching on to Emmet’s plan. “Obviously that didn’t work out _too_ well, but here we are!”

The dragon was silent for a minute longer before finally nodding. “I will take you to my master,” it agreed. It lowered its head, allowing the three of them to climb onto its back.

“We came with another,” Lucy said as she settled into place behind Emmet. “Benny, the Daedric Prince of Madness. Would you have seen him anywhere?”

“I have,” the dragon rumbled. “But he is beyond your help.”

“What do you mean?” Kitty demanded.

“Hermaeus Mora has trapped him in a cage even he cannot escape from, and if a Daedric Prince cannot free himself, what hope would a mortal have?”

“Can you take us to him anyway?” Emmet asked. “Even if we can’t help him… I want to see that he’s alright, that he’ll _be_ alright.”

“Very well,” the dragon agreed after a moment. They held on tight as it launched itself back into the sky, beating its wings hard to get itself aloft again. It soared away from the towering pillar they were certain Rex was waiting upon, weaving its way through Apocrypha’s towering stacks of books and scrolls. After a few minutes, they finally spotted a tiny island covered by an intricately-wrought cage. The dragon landed on top of the dome; whatever it was constructed of, it was durable enough to hold the beast’s weight. Benny flinched back, eyes wide in surprise before he gave his friends a wide grin.

“You’re okay!”

“What happened?!” Emmet asked, ignoring the way Lucy grabbed for him as he slid off the dragon’s back and onto the cage, lowering himself to solid ground.

“Mora happened,” Benny sighed. “He didn’t want me helping you, although it looks like you didn’t need my help anyway.” He grinned a bit. “Not that I even doubted that, but you know, never hurts to have backup.”

“The dragon-”

“Sahrotaar,” said dragon interrupted.

“Sahrotaar said there was no way you could get out…”

“There is, actually,” Benny murmured softly. “He’s right in that I can’t do it on my own; I’d need your help.” He caught Emmet’s gaze, then looked up to the girls. “You’d have to say my name.”

Emmet only looked confused, but Lucy and Kitty seemed to understand. “But we’ve said your name a few times since we got here, why-”

“His daedric name,” Lucy interrupted. Benny nodded.

“Oh.” Emmet frowned. “But why would that make a difference?”

“It’s a long story. I promise I’ll tell you later. You two.” He turned back to Lucy and Kitty. “Don’t say it til this mess with Rex is straightened out, okay? That needs to be taken care of first. I’ll be fine until then.” Lucy nodded solemnly.

“Come on Emmet, let’s go,” she called softly, holding a hand out to him. He nodded and climbed back up, accepting her help as soon as it was within reach. She hauled him back up, and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze once he was settled back into place. “We’ll _all_ get out of this okay,” she tried to assure him. Behind her, Kitty nodded emphatically. He gave them both a weak, tired smile.

“Okay. Let’s finish this.”


	49. Chapter 49

It was only a short flight to Rex from Benny’s prison, but not an easy one. Hermaeus Mora was waiting for them, tentacles draping down all around, waiting to snare them. “Hold on,” Sahrotaar told them, bracing himself for the aerobatics he would have to perform to get them through. Emmet tightened his grip as much as he dared without suffocating their mount. Lucy slid her arms around his waist, holding fast, and Kitty did the same to her.

Emmet let out a scream as they wheeled to one side, reflexively tightening his grip further. They just barely slipped past a grasping tentacle, watching as it curled around empty air. On the platform below them, Rex was Shouting, trying to help clear a path for them. Sahrotaar took the opening when several tentacles flinched away from dragon fire, swooping past and landing roughly near the First Dragonborn. Emmet lost his grip, and the three of them were thrown from the dragon’s back, tumbling across the stone ground. Sahrotaar shook himself off and took to the sky again, joining several other dragons in attacking the tentacles now that he no longer had passengers to worry about.

The three mortals glanced up to see Rex’s mask glaring down at them. Or at least it seemed like he was glaring. “Rex,” Emmet gasped, trying to push himself to his feet.

“Stay down,” he instructed, and they could definitely hear a frown in his voice. Emmet blinked at him for a moment before plopping himself back down. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to help you,” Emmet said, the same time Lucy was saying “we came to stop you.” Emmet turned toward her, somewhat startled, and flinched away from the intense stare she was aiming at Rex.

“Stop me?” Rex sounded amused. “From doing what, I wonder?”

“Whatever you did to form a bond with Emmet has been draining him,” Kitty explained. Rex stilled at that. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of a doubt and believe it wasn’t intentional, but we still need to break it before it kills him.”

“Very well then,” Rex agreed. Lucy was immediately on edge; that was far too easy. “I accomplished what I set out to do, anyway.” Emmet let out a surprised gasp, slumping over against Lucy, as something he hadn’t even noticed before was suddenly severed. The shock of it left him feeling numb and boneless.

“Emmet??”

“That felt weird…” He smiled a bit at her fussing. “I’ll be okay. In a bit. I think.”

“If you’re sure…” He nodded.

“And now that you’re here, I can leave.” They turned back to Rex as he spoke.

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked, glaring at him suspiciously.

“You didn’t really think Hermaeus Mora would just _let_ one of his trophies leave without something to replace it, did you?”

Lucy felt chilled at his words.

“He wants to collect Emmet, so I devised a plan that would ensure Emmet returned to take my place, and grant me the power to fight Mora for my freedom.”

“You _monster!_ ” Lucy spat, and at her side, Kitty had laid her ears flat, growling as she called her magic forth. “I _knew_ you couldn’t be trusted!” Rex only laughed as she lunged at him, blades drawn, and summoned his own sword to fend her off. He deflected her blows easily, and Shouted her away from him. She nearly slid right over the edge of the platform before she finally caught herself again. She hauled herself back up with shaking arms, and watched for a moment as Kitty assaulted him with every spell she could conjure, only for him to flick them away effortlessly. Behind them, long black tentacles were reaching for a still dazed and weakened Emmet.

Well. Considering what was at stake, she wasn’t about to fight fairly. She retrieved her swords from where she’d lost them, thanking each of the Divines personally that they hadn’t fallen into the tar pits below, and took a deep breath.

_“Sheogorath!”_


	50. Chapter 50

Nothing happened.

Rex and Hermaeus Mora had both frozen when she’d shouted the Prince’s name, both also expecting some burst of chaos that wasn’t forthcoming.

 _Did Benny get it wrong?_ she wondered. Thank goodness she hadn’t lost her momentum, at least, slamming into Emmet and tackling him away from the grasping tentacle. After determining he was out of immediate danger, she whirled around and sliced through the offending appendage. Mora shrieked, more in outrage than pain, and Lucy paled as it sank in what she’d just done.

“Lucy?!” Emmet squeaked, reaching to pull her back in turn before Mora could harm her.

She barely had time to gasp before that tentacle wrapped around _her_ and flung her far off the platform. She could hear Kitty and Emmet scream after her, rushing to the edge to watch helplessly as she plummeted toward the bubbling tar below.

Then several things happened, almost too quickly to process. A strong gust of wind blasted up toward her, accompanied by a whirlwind of loose papers, carrying her back up to the platform. Mora roared in absolute fury, and the moment her feet touched the stone ground again, she heard- in a familiar voice but decidedly _un_ familiar accent- “Well that was just uncalled for!”

“ _Benny_ ,” she breathed in relief. Except he wasn’t, not quite. Not until she could see the familiar brown of his eyes again. Still, he was helping them for the time being, and she couldn’t ask for much more than that. With the Mad God’s attention turned toward Mora, heckling and harassing the demon into incomprehensible fury, she was able to get back to her fight with Rex. He’d taken advantage of Kitty’s distraction and had her pinned, barely able to defend herself under his constant assault.

_“Mul Qah Diiv!”_

Lucy stumbled to a halt, glancing at Emmet. He blinked, surprised that whatever he’d attempted had apparently worked, then gave her a proud grin. Something glowed in her peripheral, and she glanced at herself.

It looked like armor, almost a mirror of Emmet’s own, glimmering over her layers of leather to provide extra protection. She gave him a quick nod of gratitude before slamming herself into Rex’s side, disrupting him so Kitty could get back to her feet.

Emmet chewed his lip as he watched, unsure of how else he could help. Benny seemed to have Mora well in hand; he couldn’t see either Daedric Prince anymore, but it was enough that Mora wasn’t trying to interfere at the moment. He really didn’t want his friends to be fighting- and he still counted Rex as a friend, even after his admission. To have been trapped in Apocrypha for so long… Well, it was understandable that Rex had resorted to desperate measures to attain his freedom once more.

But was it really the _only_ way he could escape? There had to be _some_ other way they could manage it, one that _wouldn’t_ leave one of them trapped. He sucked in a sharp breath, biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood, as Lucy made a particularly vicious jab toward Rex, the First Dragonborn just barely managing to deflect it enough so as not to be lethal, but it still left a nasty gash in his side. It finally occurred to him that Lucy might just be mad enough to actually _kill_ Rex.

He had to do something.

Rex hissed, dropping his sword as Emmet Shouted at him. It was only one Word, and certainly not the most powerful, but enough that between the stinging it caused and the surprise that Emmet had actually _Shouted_ at _him_ , he couldn’t keep a grip on his blade. Lucy swept his feet out from under him and crossed her blades at his throat, but made no further movement. Kitty had also stilled, magic at the ready but not casting. “Don’t move,” the warrior snarled at him as Emmet approached her side. Rex turned his gaze onto the Last Dragonborn.

“Please,” Emmet added. “This can’t be the _only_ way. We’ll figure something out.”

“There is no other way,” Rex spat back at him. “I’ve been here for _four thousand years_ , Emmet, and I’ve spent all that time going through every _scrap_ of knowledge Mora’s hoarded. Don’t you think I would have _found_ it, if such a way even existed?”

“Not if Mora didn’t want you to,” Lucy said. Silence reigned as that sank in. Rex clenched his fists.

“You think I hadn’t thought of that myself? I _know_ he doesn’t want to let me go. I _know_ that it was a miracle that I even found that much. Of _course_ he’d only ever let me know the worst possible scenario. I don’t get to simply go free, after everything I’ve done. What’s one more black mark on my soul?”

“But we have Benny! Or uh, Sheo-”

“Don’t say it,” Lucy interrupted gently. “It’ll just make things worse, now.”

“Point is, maybe he can help? I mean he doesn’t really seem to like Mora all that much so maybe he’ll be willing to do something.” Emmet sat back down after that. Rex looked at him, seeming to study him and the determined look the younger Dragonborn was giving him.

It had been so long since he’d really _hoped_. It didn’t come easily, not after so many millennia of disappointment. But Emmet seemed so utterly _convinced_ that there was another way, for them _all_ to get back out of there. Maybe, just this once, he could try to place some hope in the faith Emmet had in his friends.

“Alright,” he agreed. “We’ll try it your way.” He glanced skyward at a distant rumble, unable to see either of the two battling entities. “Sounds like you’re going to need some help bringing your _friend_ back to himself, though.”

“What do you have in mind?” Kitty asked, flicking her hands to put out the flames.

“We’ve brought him back before,” Lucy reminded.

“Yeah, but I also had him trapped in a binding circle last time. I didn’t exactly have the chance to make those preparations this time.”

“Emmet, you’ll have to use the Bend Will Shout,” Rex said. Emmet frowned at him.

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

Unseen behind his mask, Rex smirked. Kid was starting to catch on quick. “Under normal circumstances, yeah, it would work exactly as you think it will. Against a Daedric Prince, though- it’s more like a suggestion, than a command. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about enslaving him to your will, it’ll be more of a ‘hey, come back, would you?’.”

“Alright,” Emmet agreed reluctantly. “But- why do _I_ have to do it? Why can’t you?”

“Because I think he’ll be more likely to listen to you than me. You’re his friend, aren’t you?”

“Wait,” Lucy interrupted. “Not until _after_ we all get out of here. His power is bound to his name, and if we bring him back to himself _before_ we get out, this might not work.”

“I’d _really_ like to have that explanation sooner than later,” Emmet pressed. “Also I feel like that’s taking advantage of him.”

“Better to take advantage of him than to leave you behind. Ready?”

“I guess,” Emmet sighed, and turned to Rex. “You?”

“ _Yes_. Let’s just get this over with.”

Lucy called out again, distracting the two Daedra. Benny came to them at the sound of his name, and before he could open his mouth to speak, Lucy asked, “can you take us back to Skyrim? _All_ of us.” She reached out, snagging Kitty’s and Emmet’s hands, and Emmet reached out for Rex’s.

“Such a mundane request, don’t ye think?”

“ _Please_ ,” Lucy insisted, hoping she was getting through to him on some level. It seemed to work, as Apocrypha faded around them.

“You’ll not leave without _my permission!_ ” Mora snarled, reaching toward them. Emmet gasped in horror as he felt Rex’s hand ripped away from his.

“No! _REX!_ ”

“Emmet! _Gol Hah Dov!_ ” Rex yelled back, very pointedly. Emmet swallowed hard, the last glimpse he had of Rex being the First Dragonborn twisting himself in Mora’s grasp and snarling something at him that Emmet couldn’t understand.

Then Apocrypha was gone, and they were dumped back in the snow outside the inn they’d departed from.


	51. Chapter 51

Sirius stepped out into what they had started calling the ‘yard’, intending to join Lenny at his post. Bruce and Iron-Tail had taken it upon themselves to carve a set of steps spiraling up the side of the remainder of the peak that towered another three storeys above the Temple’s ceiling, not only creating a suitable look-out spot, but also carving out a hiding spot for Benny’s airship. Once Bruce had gotten over his anger at being abandoned in favor of the dilapidated contraption, even he had to admit the thing could be useful to them. But leaving it out in the open where Benny had repaired it was a flaming beacon for all to see, practically screaming “here we are!” And so they’d created a hiding spot for it.

Lenny nodded acknowledgement to him when he made it up to the look-out post. Things were still slightly awkward between them, but they were slowly moving past the embarrassment. “Have you given it any more thought?” the mage asked, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

“A bit,” Sirius murmured in response. “It’s… not an easy decision to make. It feels like there’s too much going on in my head.” Lenny turned to him then, quirking a sympathetic smile at him.

“That’s understandable. That was your entire life, your very foundation of being, and everything you believed was completely destroyed in a matter of _minutes_. I’d be having a hell of a time wrapping my head around it all, too.”

“Not only that, but joining you would mean undoing decades of _my_ hard work, like it was all for nothing…”

“I like to think everything happens for a reason.” Sirius gave him a curious glance at that. “There are lessons to be learned for _all_ of us. Thalmor aren’t the only group of arrogant people in this world, after all. Master Builders are pretty bad for that too. We needed to be knocked down a few pegs, and this whole experience has taught us to put our faith in someone who’s not even one of us.”

“…The Black Knight isn’t a Master Builder?” That was certainly news to Sirius.

“Not by a long shot,” Lenny laughed. “Neither is Watevra, or Penn, or May, but together they united us, taught us how to work together.” He gave Sirius a considering look. “I think you being so highly ranked among the Thalmor was part of the Divines’ plan, as well. I’m no priest, not by a long shot, and I certainly won’t claim to speak for Them, but… I truly think They meant for you to come to this point. You are in the unique position where you can either help us regain our freedom, or destroy us utterly, as terrifying as that thought is.”

Sirius grimaced at the thought. “Can’t say I’m all that keen on ‘destroying you utterly’ anymore,” he admitted. “Not so easy to kill someone you actually know. Well.” His gaze darkened. “In most cases, anyway.” Lenny nodded. He had a feeling he knew exactly who Sirius was referring to, and most emphatically agreed. The ex-Ambassador certainly wasn’t the first to feel that way about a certain Head Justiciar. Many in the rebellion had dreamed at least once of wringing his neck. “Besides, I actually kind of like you.”

“Is that so?” Lenny grinned. “Well that’s good, cause I actually kind of like you too. Especially now that you’re no longer our worst nightmare.” Sirius snorted at that.

“I still could be, you know.”

“I’m not doubting that at all, I’m just glad you’re _choosing_ not to be.” They fell into companionable silence, eyes scanning the ground far below them for anything out of the ordinary. Or Lenny was, at least; Sirius wasn’t quite certain what the rebels considered to be ‘out of the ordinary’, but he was _trying_ to make himself useful.

After a few minutes he gave Lenny a nudge, pointing to a black speck staggering across the tundra once he had the mage’s attention. “Huh,” Lenny said, frowning thoughtfully. “Good eye. Wanna go check it out?”

“Not _by myself_ , I don’t have a death wish.”

Lenny snickered. “So tell the Knight, I’m sure he’ll go with you.” He turned, blinking at the stubborn frown Sirius was giving him. “I _can’t_ go, it’s my turn to keep watch. It’s not like he bites or anything, geez.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I _know_ that.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.” Lenny watched as he left in a huff, and smirked to himself as he turned his gaze back to the horizon.

“Well. That’s interesting.”

~* *~

Sirius did end up asking the Knight to go with him to investigate the figure staggering about on the moor. He would have asked Ken, just to spite Lenny, had the red-robed mage not currently been out securing supplies in Markarth.

In the end, he was glad he _did_ have the Knight with him, when the hooded figure glanced up at the pair of them with glowing eyes.

A _vampire!_

The Knight reacted almost instantly, drawing his sword and pressing it to the creature’s neck. Sirius summoned his magic, ready for it to make a move.

The ‘move’ the vampire made wasn’t one they were at all expecting.

“Please,” he rasped. “Please, I mean you no harm… I need help…”

The Knight didn’t move his blade, simply turning to look at his companion and tilting his head in askance. “What kind of ‘help’?” Sirius voiced for him.

“To… stop a… prophecy,” he panted, and winced. The Knight bristled as the vampire leaned against him, too weak to keep himself upright anymore. “Tyranny of the sun… I- I have…” Words failing him, he instead shifted to move his cloak, hissing softly as the sun hit his skin but revealing an Elder Scroll slung across his back.

“Shh,” the Knight soothed, and Sirius stared at him in surprise. _Divines, don’t tell me he’s going to- yep, he is._ He fought the urge to roll his eyes as the Knight put his sword away and offered support to the vampire. Sirius huffed and flicked his magic away.

“And how do we know this isn’t a ploy to weaken us from the inside?”

The Knight stared silently at him, then pointedly turned to the vampire who was by this point more being held up than standing under his own power, and back to Sirius again.

Sirius threw his hands in the air. “Bleeding heart,” he snarled, though his words held no real heat, and he stomped back toward the Temple. The Knight glanced down at the vampire once again when he felt his gaze on him. There was no telling just yet how old he _actually_ was, but he _looked_ to be in his late teens. To be turned so young… Mind made up, he hefted the slim form into his arms, ignoring the startled squawk it earned him. He gave the vampire a moment to squirm into a more comfortable position- having an Elder Scroll pressing against his back like that couldn’t have been pleasant- and rearrange his cloak to cover himself better before beginning the trek back.


	52. Chapter 52

Jenny and Watevra greeted them at the entrance- word had gotten around fast that Sirius had spotted someone in trouble out on the moors, and they wanted to be ready to help their rescue. They hadn’t been expecting to see a _vampire_.

“Oh. Oh dear, I- I don’t know anything about healing vampires, I-” Watevra started, eyes wide as she stared at the still form in the Knight’s arms.

“You brought a vampire _here?_ ” Bruce snarled as he and the rest of the rebels crowded into the main hall.

“That’s what I said!” Sirius huffed. Bruce scowled at him.

“But why?” Lloyd asked. With his hands currently occupied, the Knight turned to Sirius. The half-elf harrumphed and folded his arms across his chest.

“He might’ve said something about stopping a prophecy and having an Elder Scroll…”

“It _what?!_ ”

Penn rolled her eyes and stepped closer, drawing one of her hidden daggers. She grabbed a cup from the table and pulled it closer before slicing her arm open, letting her blood drip into the glass. The vampire perked up and began thrashing the moment the scent of blood hit the air, but it was a testament to how weakened he was that the Knight was able to restrain him without help. “Penn, what are you _doing?_ ” Bruce hissed.

“We need answers, and clearly it’s in no fit state to be giving them.”

“Sssstop calling me that,” the vampire slurred, glowering at them the best he could. “M’a person just like you…”

“ _People_ don’t eat other people,” Bruce spat back. Penn handed the cup over to the vampire before allowing Watevra to fuss over her cut. The vampire’s gaze dropped at Bruce’s words, even as he accepted the offered blood. The atmosphere was tense and silent for a few minutes as he drank down the cup’s contents. He was silently grateful that he had been too weak to struggle free; obviously these people saw him as a monster as it was, he didn’t need to go about reinforcing that image.

Finally, he could feel his strength starting to return. He glanced up at the Knight. “I think I can stand now.” The Knight nodded, setting him back on his feet. “My name is Balthazar,” he introduced himself. “My family is very old, and very powerful. My mother and I were close, once. My father was… distant, at best. Until he heard of the prophecy.”

“What prophecy?” Mayhem asked.

“It’s called the Tyranny of the Sun. If the ritual described in the prophecy is performed… it would destroy the sun, and permanently plunge the world into darkness. Vampires would never have to worry about being hurt by daylight again.”

“And _you_ actually want to _stop_ it?” Bruce scoffed.

“Well. Yes.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Aside from what the lack of sun might do to our food supply?” Balthazar smirked as Bruce spluttered. “Because it’s the _right thing_ to do.”

Penn started laughing. “Ohh, I think I _like_ you.”

“Enough to help me stop my father from fulfilling the prophecy?”

Sirius only half paid attention as the others debated amongst themselves. ‘Right thing to do’ it may be, but he suspected the vampire had more personal reasons as well. There was a subtle look of longing there that he was all too familiar with. “I will,” he said.

The chatter stopped as the rebels turned to stare at him in surprise. After a moment, Mayhem turned a bright smile onto him. “Me too.”

Perhaps it was uncharitable of him to think so, but Sirius wasn’t _too_ surprised when no one else volunteered. “I guess it’s just the three of us then.”

“Will that be enough?” Mayhem asked, worry creeping into her voice.

“We can manage,” Balthazar assured. “It might be better to have fewer people, for now at least. We’ll attract less attention that way. But now we need to find someone who can read the Scroll. Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father.”

“I may be able to help with that,” Vitruvius spoke up.

“ _You_ can read Elder Scrolls?” Sirius asked, surprised.

“I spent my youth training to become a Moth Priest, before I decided it wasn’t what I wanted after all and joined the Blades. It’s been a long time, but I can still recall the teachings.”

“By all means,” Balthazar said, shrugging off the Scroll and passing it over to him.

“You sure you’re _ready_ to read the Scroll?” Sirius pressed. “I’d imagine it takes a lot of preparation beforehand, I’ve heard stories of what those things will do to people.”

“I never said I was going to read it _right this moment_ , did I?” Vitruvius chuckled. “No, you are correct. There are some preparations I must make first, some meditation upon the scroll… This sort of thing usually takes years to prepare for, but I would venture a guess we don’t have that sort of time?” Balthazar shook his head. “In that case, I musn’t waste any. I’ll let you all know when I’m ready.”

“How long will it take you to prepare?” Balthazar asked.

“I can’t say for sure, but hopefully I won’t take longer than a day. I’d like to mitigate at least _some_ of the effects.”

“Alright…”

~* *~

Although he had discovered he needed less sleep since his turning than he had as a mortal, Balthazar still felt himself utterly drained. Not surprising, after sneaking his way out of the castle with the Elder Scroll, traveling so far south where the sun shone so persistently, and refraining from any biting (he couldn’t afford to gain the attention of any hunters). Though he felt somewhat refreshed after drinking the blood that had been offered him, it wasn’t enough, and he was still exhausted.

He couldn’t remember when he had dozed off, but he could remember it definitely wasn’t in the cot he discovered himself upon. Someone must have moved him to where they thought he would be more comfortable. Thoughtful of them, really. Another cup waited for him nearby, and he stared at it for a moment before snatching it up and draining it. Either these people were really stupid to be helping him regain his full strength, or…

Or they were showing him the same amount of trust he’d put in them. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes to keep them from stinging. _I’m not going to cry, I’m not…_

“You okay, honey?”

He jerked his head up, staring at her in surprise. He hadn’t heard her come in. _Their healer,_ he finally remembered. “Oh. Yes, it’s just… been a very long few days.”

“So I gathered.” The longer he looked at her, the more he realized something about her wasn’t quite… right. _Human_. She smiled at his scrutiny.

He finally tore his gaze away from her, staring down into the empty cup instead. “Who donated this time?” he asked quietly.

“The Knight.”

“I don’t get why you people are being so kind to me.”

“It’s kind of what we do. And I find it very difficult to think of you as a monster when you so clearly have a conscience.” He ducked his head at that, embarrassed. “A lot of the others are still wary, but they’re willing to play nice.”

“…Thank you.”

She reached over, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. We’ll do our best to help save your father.”

He sighed, closing his eyes. “As much as it hurts to even think it, I… don’t think that’s going to be possible. He’s changed so much since I last saw him. When the servants finally found me and brought me home, he… he didn’t seem like he _really_ knew me. I don’t fully know what his plans are, but I think- I think I’m just a means to an end, now. He’s distanced himself from the idea of me being his _son_. And that… _frightens_ me more than I care to admit…”


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for taking so long to update this one, I promise I didn't forget about it! I just. Got a bit sidetracked. 8D; And I still plan on continuing it, but as I also plan on doing Nanowrimo next month, it might be December before Murphy's Law updates again.

Though it felt like they had spent hours in Apocrypha, it seemed only a few minutes had passed in Skyrim. The storm was still raging, though it was clear the worst of it had passed. Lucy and Kitty helped Emmet back to his feet, almost dragging him back into the inn. He was barely responsive, shuffling his feet just enough not to drag them down with him. The two women shared a worried glance. Everything had happened so quickly, it left him stunned. Benny’s failure to arrive at the inn with them had only left him reeling even worse.

They huddled together near the firepit, soaking in the warmth of the glowing embers as they tried to process everything. “Emmet…?” Lucy ventured.

“After all that, we couldn’t save him…”

“It’s not your fault,” Kitty tried to soothe him. “You did everything right. Rex _chose_ to come with us! There’s nothing we could have done to stop Mora…” She trailed off as tears started to fall down Emmet’s cheeks, and instead opted to simply hold him close as he cried. Lucy shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to help.

Once Emmet had cried himself out, he sat back up and wiped his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Oh Emmet, there’s no need to be _sorry_ ,” Kitty assured him. “It’s been a rough few days for all of us, and if I were in your place, I would’ve fallen apart too, I think. In fact I think we should just stay for a couple days and do nothing but sleep.”

“What about Benny…?”

“Benny will be fine,” Lucy finally spoke up again. “He’ll come back to himself on his own, though there’s never any telling how long that will take. Could be anywhere from a few days to a few months. In the meantime, he’s probably gone back to the Shivering Isles- it’s the safest place for him to be while he’s in this state.”

“I hope it doesn’t take months for him to come back…”

“Maybe we can try to do something to help him, but not until _after_ we’re all rested,” Kitty said. “I certainly don’t have the energy for anything like that right now. Come on Emmet, I’ll help you out of your armor, okay?”

“Okay…” He let the Khajiit pull him back to his feet and nudge him toward his room. Lucy stretched before trudging toward the room she and Kitty shared, barely managing to tug off her own armor before falling onto the mattress. She was half asleep by the time Kitty came in.

“How is he…?”

“Out like a light,” Kitty sighed, her own exhaustion now evident. “I’ll be surprised if he wakes before two days have passed. Lucy, I feel so _bad_ for him…”

“I don’t.”

“Well that’s just mean-”

“No, I mean… I get the feeling that’s _not_ the last we’ll see of Rex. As we were leaving Apocrypha, he… He Shouted _something_ at Mora. He seemed convinced a Shout would still work on Benny, so I don’t see why one wouldn’t work on Mora too, I just wish I knew what it was…”

Kitty tilted her head, then decided she was too tired to try puzzling it out. “Sleep, Lucy,” she said instead. “We can figure it out another time.”

“Mm…” The Khajiit smirked to herself when Lucy’s incoherent mumbling was shortly followed by a soft snore. It was just as well; she felt like she could sleep for a week herself.

~* *~

He resurfaced slowly, feeling groggy and miserable. Not surprising, considering he’d cried himself to sleep. He wondered how long he’d been out.

“I’d wager it’s been about three days now.”

Had he said that out loud? He pried his eyes open, focusing first on the cup being held before his face, then beyond it to familiar copper hair and warm brown eyes. “ _Benny_.” Well, that would explain the weight on his legs.

The Prince quirked a weary smile at him. “Hey, Emmet. Drink up, you look like you need it.”

“Wha’sit…?”

“Just water.”

Benny helped him as he struggled to sit up, then drank down the offered cup. Benny was right; he did feel a little better already. The Daedra slid off the bed to refill the cup, and handed it to him again. “What happened? Lucy said it might be a while before you came back.”

“Usually it does take a while for me to remember myself. I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure what triggered it this time, but I’m glad for it. Lucy and Kitty woke sometime in the middle of the night, they were pretty wore out too.”

“You don’t look much better.”

Benny waved him off. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you this whole time. I was starting to worry maybe it hadn’t worked after all, the longer you slept…”

“I’m sorry…”

“Emmet, _don’t_ be. It’s not your fault-”

“Yes it is. If I hadn’t agreed to _help_ him, this all wouldn’t have happened…”

“You were just doing what you thought was right. There’s no fault in that.”

The Dragonborn was silent as he stared down into his water. “I think… I think it’s time we returned to Sky Haven Temple. I think I’m ready to face Alduin now.”

Benny watched him for a moment. “If you’re certain, then that’s what we’ll do.”


	54. Chapter 54

After some breakfast, Emmet seemed right as rain again, and was raring to go. Benny was absolutely delighted when Kitty handed him the Dwemer key, turning it over and over in his hands as they walked.

“Do you think we’ve got time for that explanation now?” Emmet asked after a while. Benny didn’t seem too inclined to leave them just yet. The Prince glanced up from his prize, and blinked at the Dragonborn.

“Oh. Sure, I guess now is as good a time as any.” He chewed his lip as he thought how to start his story.

“I was once a Breton mage, working in the Imperial City in the final years of Emperor Uriel Septim the Seventh. My team in particular had a fascination with the Dwemer ruins. We studied their technology, what few remnants of their culture we could find. I was the youngest on the team, and the others didn’t like me very much. Guess they thought I was getting ‘too big for my britches’, or whatever. They were constantly looking for ways to get rid of me, though I didn’t realize this until it was too late.”

“What happened?”

It was a moment before Benny spoke again, and when he did, it was very quietly. “There was a city guard. Not the captain, but fairly high-ranking, and I loved him very much. We always did our best to be very careful not to get caught, because relationships like ours were still very much frowned upon back then. But… My team, they somehow found out anyway. They went to the captain, and turned me in for trying to ‘corrupt’ one of his officers. The night I was arrested was the last time I ever saw him, because right after that we found ourselves in the middle of the Oblivion Crisis. The Emperor came to my cell, and I escaped with him and his personal guards. He gave me the Amulet of Kings right before he was killed, and I was asked to find his son Martin.”

“ _You_ were the Hero of Kvatch?!”

Benny gave him a weak smile. “Yup, that was me.”

“What happened to your guard…?”

“He was killed by daedra invaders early on. I didn’t find out until after the Crisis was over.”

“Oh, Benny…”

Benny shrugged. “It was two hundred years ago. I’ve had a lot on my plate since then, so it was easy enough to move on.”

“What did you do when you found out?”

“I guess I got a little self-destructive. I don’t really remember much of that stretch of time, but I wound up in the Shivering Isles. I destroyed the Gatekeeper, something the previous Prince of Madness wasn’t very happy with me for, but for whatever reason he decided not to kill me. Instead, I wound up performing a bunch of tasks for him- one of which was to make a new Gatekeeper. Eventually he revealed to me that these seemingly odd and unrelated tasks were actually part of a plan to stop the Greymarch, where he would once again become Jyggalag, the Daedric Prince of Order. I defeated him, and broke his curse, and he gave me the title of Prince of Madness. I couldn’t have denied it even if I’d cared to, at the time, so now here I am.”

“That’s so sad…”

“Maybe, but it means I got to be here to help you.” He bounced. “Oh! And I finally found an airship!” Emmet laughed as he suddenly perked up again. “Seriously, I think that’s going to be the highlight of this entire _century_.”

“ _If_ we can stop Alduin from destroying the world, at any rate,” Lucy reminded them.

“I have faith in you,” Benny said.

~* *~

Their return to the Temple was met with enthusiasm, especially once the rebels realized they were successful in their mission. “A lot happened while you were gone,” Mayhem told them. “We happen to have a second Scroll in our possession.”

“Do we really??” Kitty asked, eyes wide. “How did that happen?”

“It looks like the vampires are also starting up some trouble, and one of their own actually stole the Scroll they had and came all the way out here looking for help in stopping their plans.”

“Wow,” Emmet gasped. “Is the vampire still here?”

“Yeah, he’s around. We’re waiting on Vitruvius to read the Scroll he brought us.”

“ _Vitruvius_ can read Scrolls?!” Kitty giggled and nudged Lucy.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor,” she teased. Lucy blushed and scowled at her.

“Oh, and another thing-”

“Emmet!”

The Dragonborn jolted as a surprising voice called his name. “Sirius?! You’re back!” He paused as he caught sight of the elf. “Whoa, you look really different.”

“Considering the circumstances of my departure from the Thalmor, I figured it was in my best interests to be less recognizable.”

“Oh no, what happened??”

“I outlived my usefulness.”

“At least you finally know the truth now,” Lucy said. “Does your being here mean you’ve decided to join us, instead?”

“…I’m still thinking on it. I haven’t made a decision yet.”

“He did give us a lot of Thalmor intel though,” Mayhem added, smirking at Sirius. “Bruce and Penn and the Knight are trying to come up with a plan based on what we now know.”

“Not you?” Lucy asked.

“No, Sirius and I will be leaving with our new vampire friend as soon as we know what his Scroll has to say.” Lucy gave the half-elf a considering look at that.

“What??” he huffed at her. “Just because I was a Thalmor officer doesn’t mean I want to see the sun destroyed any more than you do. Less than you do, actually.”

“Wait, they’re going to try to destroy the sun??”

“My father is, yes.” They turned to the newcomer. He turned glowing yellow eyes onto Emmet. “You must be the Dragonborn I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“That’s me,” Emmet agreed. “I’m Emmet!”

“Balthazar. It is an honor to meet you, Dragonborn.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes at the vampire. “Nice to meet you. Now what’s this about destroying the sun?”


	55. Chapter 55

Everyone had gathered into the main hall to hear Vitruvius’ reading. The old lorekeeper had declared himself as ready as he was going to get, and they were eager to hear what the Scroll had to say. Lucy had taken Emmet’s hand, gripping it tightly in her excitement. Emmet couldn’t keep the ecstatic grin off his face.

“Is this everyone?” Vitruvius asked, glancing around the hall.

“Everyone but Lenny and Ken,” Bruce answered. “You can go ahead.”

“Alright.” He pulled open the scroll, wincing as if suddenly faced by a bright light. “I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow, golden and glowing- I believe it may be Auriel’s Bow.” Sirius couldn’t stop the sharp gasp that escaped him. “Now a voice whispers, saying ‘among the night’s children, a dread lord will rise. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one. The voice fades, and the words begin to shimmer and distort.”

“That were short,” Iron-Tail murmured.

“Wait, there’s more here. The secret of the bow’s power is written elsewhere. I think there’s more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls. Yes, I see them now… One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood.” Vitruvius frowned then.

“What’s wrong?” Mayhem asked.

“…I can’t see.”

“It’s not showing you anything more?” Penn pressed.

“No, I mean _I can’t see_. Not the Scroll, not any of you, _nothing_.”

Watevra put a hand on his arm. “Maybe I can help-”

“No,” he cut her off, and patted her hand. “No, dear, I don’t think you can. This isn’t a natural ailment, after all.”

“You think it’s from reading the Scroll?”

“It is one of the most common side effects. I’ll just have to let it run its course, if it ever will.”

“Are you saying you might never see again?”

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make. Emmet.”

“Yes?” the Dragonborn asked, somewhat startled by the sudden calling of his name.

“The Scroll you have with you, I believe it may very well be one of the other two mentioned.”

“Makes sense, if it’s the one he needs to face Alduin,” Lucy agreed.

“But how are you going to read it if you can’t see?” Emmet asked.

“I’m not,” came the simple answer. “Sirius is.”

“Wait, what?!” the ex-Thalmor yelped. “What do you mean _I_ am?!” He glowered at the amused smile on the old man’s face.

“I mean I know of another method of reading the Scrolls.”

“Why didn’t you mention that in the _first place?_ ”

“Because it’s several days’ travel to the west, and I was unaware of there being two other Scrolls related to this prophecy until I read _this_ Scroll. You’ll need to retrieve the third Scroll, and head to the Ancestor Glade to read all three there.”

Sirius grumbled to himself, massaging his temples. “Fine. What’s this ‘other method’?”

“It has a lot to do with why the Moth Priests are called the _Moth_ Priests.”

Sirius’ anger faded away, replaced by curiosity. “You’re talking about the Ancestor Moths, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Vitruvius agreed. “You seem familiar with the ritual already.”

“As familiar as I can be through reading texts about the practice,” the elf admitted. “I know that if there are enough of the moths present, one who’s had the training can tap into their second sight to read the Scrolls with little risk. You know where there’s an Ancestor Glade, don’t you?”

Vitruvius gave a warm smile in his direction. “And that is exactly why I think you should be the one to read them. Yes, I happened upon one here in Skyrim while I was searching for Sky Haven Temple. It’s along the mountain range southwest of Helgen.”

“I see,” Sirius murmured. “But there’s still the problem of finding that third Scroll.”

“I can help with that,” Balthazar piped up. “My mother was searching for another Scroll at the time I was sealed away with that one. She may very well know where another is, if not actually have it in her possession.”

“Where is she?” Emmet asked.

“…That’s the only problem,” the vampire admitted. “I don’t know. She fled the castle, and that’s all I was able to find out.”

“Surely she left a hint?” Mayhem prompted.

“The last time I saw her, she said she would go somewhere safe… somewhere my father would never search for her. Other than that, she wouldn’t tell me anything. But the way she said it… ‘Someplace he would never search’. It was cryptic, yet she called attention to it. But I can’t imagine a single place my father would avoid looking. And he’s had all this time, too.”

Sirius looked thoughtful. “How big is this castle of yours?”

“Quite large, it covers the entire island. Why?”

“Oftentimes the best place to hide is right under the nose of the one who’s searching for you.” He smirked. “With that much space… What if she never actually left?”

“Oh,” Balthazar gasped, eyes wide as an idea came to him. “You may be on to something. We should go and have a look, hopefully she left other clues.”

“You think that will give us time to deal with Alduin?” Lucy asked. “After all, Emmet needs his Scroll too.”

“I should think so,” Balthazar said. “It’s three days’ travel to Castle Volkihar from here, and then there’s no telling how long it will take to find my mother. It may well be a week before we make it to the Ancestor Glade, if not longer.”

“We can meet you there, then,” Lucy suggested.

 _‘I’ll be going with you,’_ the Knight signed, surprising her.

“Are you sure about this?”

_‘Of course. I’ve been giving it thought for some time. Besides, there is an old friend I would like to say hello to again.’_

“Aye, and I be comin’ with ye too.”

“And me!” Kitty chirped.

Emmet turned his attention to Benny. “And you?” he asked hopefully.

“Nah,” the Prince said. “I’ve had my fill of saving the day. Besides, the Divines kind of ganged up on me and made me agree not to interfere. It’s your turn to be the hero.”

Emmet chewed his lip, then hugged Benny. “Will I see you again when this is over…?”

“Of course!” Benny agreed, hugging him back. “You’re my friend now, you won’t be rid of me that easily.” Emmet laughed. “Good luck out there.”


	56. Chapter 56

The two groups left the Temple together, then split up once they reached the base of the mountain, one heading north, the other east. It wasn’t until they reached Ivarstead that it really hit Emmet what they were about to do, and he had to pause to collect himself.

“Are you alright?” Lucy asked, reaching over and squeezing his hand.

“I don’t know,” Emmet admitted. “I feel… not good. My stomach’s doing flip flops.”

“I don’t blame you for being scared,” she said softly. “I’ll be honest, I am too. I haven’t forgotten what he did to Helgen. But I think we can take him, now. We’ve seen him in action, we know what to expect, and we have some of the best warriors in the rebellion with us.” She gave him a smile. “And Paarthurnax will be there to help us, right?”

Emmet took a deep breath and nodded. “Right.” He glanced at the rest of their friends, who had stopped to let him have his moment. The Knight had tilted his head at Emmet before gesturing for the Dragonborn to come closer. Emmet did so, giving him a curious look as the Knight grasped both of his shoulders and leaned down so their foreheads were almost touching.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered, and Emmet jolted in surprise, staring at him with wide eyes. He gave Emmet’s shoulder a squeeze before moving toward the trail leading up to High Hrothgar.

“Did he actually _talk??_ ” Kitty asked as she came up to Emmet’s side, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Emmet answered, equally awed. “Well he whispered, but still!”

“Best be gettin’ a move on, lad,” Iron-Tail nudged. Emmet nodded and followed the Knight up the Seven Thousand Steps.

High Hrothgar appeared empty when they arrived, none of the Greybeards coming to greet them. Emmet stared in surprise as the Knight simply strode across the hall to the doors leading out to the courtyard. “You’ve been here before?” he asked as they stepped outside once again.

The Knight nodded. _‘I trained here for ten years. Not very long, by Greybeard standards, but I learned a few Shouts in that short time.’_

“Did you meet Paarthurnax?”

_‘Once, shortly before I left. Our conversation was brief, but profound. He basically gave me his blessing to use my Voice for the rebellion.’_

“Oh, wow…”

They took turns clearing the way to the peak of the mountain, something Emmet was immensely grateful for after he’d worn himself out so badly during his previous visit. Still, there was something about the Knight’s voice that was oddly familiar… He put the thought out of his mind. He could question it another time, right now they had more important things to focus on.

The peak was empty when they arrived, but not for long. At the sound of beating wings Lucy drew her blades, preparing for a fight, but Emmet waved her down upon seeing the approaching dragon. “It’s Paarthurnax,” he assured her, and didn’t miss the way Kitty and Iron-Tail also relaxed. The old dragon landed on a nearby boulder, looking quite pleased.

“You have it! The Kel- the Elder Scroll. Tood kreh… qalos. Time shudders at its touch. There is no question. You are doom driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then; fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time Wound- do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs.” Emmet nodded, stepping toward where Paarthurnax gestured. He could see the air shimmering like there was a wave of heat, and shrugged the Scroll off his back. Lucy bit her lip almost hard enough to bleed as she watched him open the Scroll to read it, barely relaxing even as the Knight placed a hand on her shoulder.

_The world around him seemed to vanish in a flash of bright light, which faded quickly and left him in almost complete darkness but for the fires raging in the sky. He could hear the roars of many dragons, and as his eyes adjusted, he could see them circling around the peak of the mountain. Before him were three humans, facing down the dragons with no other help._

_“Gormlaith, we’re running out of time! The battle-” The man who was speaking was cut off as a dragon landed before him._

_“Daar sul thur se Alduin vakrii. Today Alduin’s lordship will be restored. But I honor your courage. Krif voth ahkrin. Die now, in vain.”_

_“For Skyrim!” the man shouted back, drawing his sword. He was soon joined by a woman, who used a maneuver much like the one Lucy used against the first dragon they had ever fought, leaping onto the beast’s head to deliver a killing blow._

_“Know that Gormlaith sent you down to death!” the woman gloated, then leapt off her kill. “Hakon! A glorious day, is it not?”_

_“Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?”_

_“What else is there?”_

_“The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost.”_

_“You worry too much, brother. Victory will be ours.”_

_‘Hakon’ turned to the third member of their party. “Why does Alduin hang back? We’ve staked everything on this plan of yours, old man.”_

_“He will come,” the old man spoke with confidence. “He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?”_

_“We’ve bloodied him well. Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day,” Gormlaith boasted._

_“But none had yet stood against Alduin himself,” the old man reminded. “Galthor, Sorri, Birkir…”_

_“They did not have Dragonrend. Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head,” Gormlaith vowed._

_“You do not understand. Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength. Which is why I brought the Elder Scroll.” Emmet watched with curiosity as the old man pulled out the Scroll, identical to the one he now held himself._

_“Felldir! We agreed not to use it!” Hakon protested._

_“I never agreed. And if you are right, I will not need it.”_

_“No. We will deal with Alduin ourselves, here and now.”_

_“We shall see soon enough. Alduin approaches!”_

_“So be it.”_

_Emmet’s breath caught in his throat when Alduin finally approached, landing atop the Word Wall and staring down at the trio of humans with a vicious glower. “Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan!” The massive dragon lifted his head to the sky and opened his mouth, summoning the same meteor shower that had destroyed Helgen._

_“Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!” Gormlaith crowed, and with her two companions, Shouted._ “Joor Zah Frul!”

_“Nivahriin joorre!” Alduin snarled as he found himself dragged to the ground. “What have you done? What twisted Words have you created?! Tahrodiis Paarthurnax! My teeth to his neck! But first…” He bared his teeth at the humans. “Dir ko maar. You will die in terror, knowing your final fate… To feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!”_

_“If I die today, it will not be in terror!” Gormlaith spat back. “You feel fear for the first time, worm! I see it in your eyes!”_

_“Fo Krah Diin!” Felldir Shouted, unleashing a torrent of frigid air upon the dragon._

_Gormlaith raised her sword in defiance. “Skyrim will be free!” she declared before rushing forward to attack, soon joined by her companions. Emmet and clenched his eyes shut as Alduin grabbed her with his teeth, clapping his hands over his ears at the crunch of bones as the dragon’s powerful jaws crushed down on her before tossing her body away._

_“No, damn you!” Hakon cried. “It’s no use! Use the Scroll, Felldir! Now!”_

_Felldir retreated to a safe distance as Hakon kept Alduin distracted. “Hold, Alduin on the Wing! Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with older bones than your own we break your perch on this age and send you out! You are banished! Alduin, we shout you out from all our endings unto the last!”_

_Alduin finally took notice of the old man’s chanting. “Faal Kel…?! Nikrinne…!” He let out a piercing roar and tried to roast Felldir alive, but the power of the Scroll already had him._

_“You are banished!” Felldir shouted, and Alduin vanished. Hakon hobbled over to stand at Felldir’s side, panting heavily as he stared in awe at the empty space formerly occupied by the World-Eater._

_“It worked… You did it…”_

_“Yes,” Felldir murmured. “The World-Eater is gone. May the spirits have mercy on our souls…”_

The world was swallowed up by daylight again, and Emmet blinked against the blinding sunlight reflecting off the snow. He dropped the Scroll as he reached to rub at his watering eyes. “Did you learn it?” Lucy asked. “Did you learn the words for Dragonrend?”

Emmet swallowed hard as the sound of another dragon approaching reached their ears, and nodded. “I did.”

“Prepare yourselves,” Paarthurnax rumbled. “Alduin comes.”


	57. Chapter 57

Sirius heaved a sigh as he watched the Dragonborn and his team disappear into the distance before rubbing at his face, already wondering what he was getting himself into. Behind him, Balthazar and Mayhem exchanged glances, the vampire’s eyebrows raising as he tilted his head toward the half-elf and opened his mouth to ask a question, only to shut it again when May shook her head, giving him an amused look. “You seem nervous,” she said as Sirius finally turned to look at them.

“We’ll be passing far too close to the Embassy for my liking,” he huffed.

“We won’t be _that_ close.”

“It’s still close enough.”

“…I seem to be missing quite a bit of context here,” Balthazar spoke up, looking between the two elves. “What’s the Embassy?”

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Mayhem started.

“I assumed it would be,” Balthazar told her patiently. “I have been sealed away for quite some time, after all. But seeing as it’s going to take us a few days to get to my family’s castle, I believe we have the time for a long story.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Mayhem agreed with a shrug. She turned to Sirius. “Perhaps you better tell it though, you would know the details better than me.” Balthazar turned an inquisitive gaze onto him, and he sighed.

“How familiar are you with the Aldmeri Dominion?”

“I can’t say I’m familiar with the name.”

Sirius stared at him for a long moment. “…When, exactly, were you sealed away?”

“If I recall correctly… Five hundred seventy-four of the Second Era.”

“That was a thousand years ago!” Mayhem exclaimed.

“And just a few years before the First Aldmeri Dominion was founded.” Sirius frowned thoughtfully to himself. “However, that’s of little consequence to current events, really. The Embassy is the base of operations for the Third Aldmeri Dominion here in Skyrim.” He paused as he took a moment to decide how he wanted to continue. “Until almost two weeks ago, I was First Emissary. A title I took great pride in… until I discovered how expendable I was.” Mayhem reached over, gently squeezing his shoulder in commiseration.

“What do you mean ‘expendable’?”

“I’m only half Altmer. But as I was my father’s only child, the Thalmor allowed him to keep me, and upon discovering my talents, decided I could be of great use to them.”

“What exactly is the Aldmeri Dominion?”

“A group of zealots convinced of their own superiority,” Mayhem sighed. “They are quite intent on restoring elven rule to Tamriel, on the claim that humanity is too immature and destructive to govern itself properly.”

“The Third Dominion got its start a little over two hundred years ago. It was just a small faction then, but upon ending the Oblivion Crisis and restoring the Moons, they gained quite a bit of traction.” He bit his lip at the look Mayhem gave him. “Or so they claimed, anyway. The true heroes of the Crisis were Martin Septim, the illegitimate son of Uriel Septim the Seventh, and a man most only know as the Hero of Kvatch. I’ve come to know him as Benny.”

That surprised the vampire. “You mean the _Daedric Prince_ that’s been hanging around the Temple?”

“The one and the same,” Mayhem confirmed, giving him a grin.

“That’s a separate story. Most Altmer didn’t know any different; at least not at first. When the daedra suddenly disappeared, and the Thalmor came up claiming to have banished them all back to Oblivion, people were quick to believe them, wanting _someone_ to thank for putting an end to such a horrific ordeal. It was the same with the Void Nights- roughly a century ago the Moons disappeared, and two years later reappeared. No one is certain what caused them to vanish, but like with the Oblivions Crisis, the Thalmor claimed to have brought the Moons back using ‘Dawn Magicks’- which I can certainly confirm is quite the hoax, as I never came across any such thing in any of my research, and even as a hated ‘half-blood’ I had a lot of access to restricted files due to my position within their ranks. Anyway, now we come to where the story really becomes relevant- thirty-five years ago the Thalmor finally made their move. I accompanied my father, who was First Emissary at the time, to the Imperial City with a ‘gift’ for the Empire, and a list of demands. It was the start of a vicious war, which ended only when the Emperor offered a treaty that agreed to nearly all of our original demands.” His gaze fell to the ground. “I was instrumental in much of that. When my father met an untimely end, I was offered his title, and improved upon much of his work. It was only when the rebels managed to capture me by pure random chance that…”

“Things began to change,” Mayhem finished for him. “Sirius was with us for only two weeks before the Thalmor found us and reclaimed him. But it was enough to open his eyes, and he was prepared when the Thalmor decided they no longer needed him. Very bad move on their part, I believe.”

“I still haven’t agreed to join you, you know.”

“If you say so.”

Balthazar chuckled softly. “I’m with her on this. I barely know any of you, but even I can see it’s inevitable. You seem the sort who would have been long gone already if you didn’t have reason to stay.” Sirius fell thoughtfully silent as they walked.


End file.
